


Obliterate//Heathers

by cosmicwords



Category: Heathers (1988)
Genre: Amnesia, Car Accidents, F/M, Law School
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 06:01:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 35
Words: 68,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24359995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicwords/pseuds/cosmicwords
Summary: ob•lit•er•ate•verb."destroy utterly; wipe out."***#theserianianawardsWhen Veronica wakes up in the hospital after a car crash remembering only bits and pieces, she loses everything. Her boyfriend left her that day, disappearing and leaving her to go through hell alone. At least, that's what everyone has told her.Now in law school, an assignment and nosy students cause suspicion around the death of Heather Chandler. Forced to approach a part of her past that has been a mystery, she realizes just how much everyone has lied to her.How is she supposed to put the pieces of her broken life back together when she can't trust anybody, including herself?
Relationships: Jason "J. D." Dean/Veronica Sawyer
Comments: 5
Kudos: 20





	1. Intro

ob•lit•er•ate   
verb.  
"destroy utterly; wipe out"

//Warnings//  
•mental health/recovery •amnesia •depression •PTSD •death •bulimia •drug addiction •mentions of self-harm and suicidal thoughts •teen pregnancy •murder •mentions of domestic abuse   
•May contain violence •alcohol abuse

• TAKES PLACE IN MODERN TIMES  
•THE BOMB DIDN'T HAPPEN; THEY STILL KILLED THE 3, THOUGH

Veronica's life didn't flash before her eyes. There wasn't time for that before she was plunged into darkness, a state of unconsciousness in which she remained in as she was taken to the hospital. When she did wake up, she felt a hand on top of hers.

"JD?" She managed, her lips cracked and bloody. Her voice sounds like a hiss, the words never seeming to leave the air inches from her face. Her mother still hears them.

"It's me, baby. She's awake," her mother told a nearby nurse. "What's your name?"

The question confused her at first. How could her own mother forget her name? What scared her more is how long it took for her to grasp the word she's heard so many times before.

"Veronica." She let her eyes shut again.

"How old are you?"

She looked down at herself and the wires attached to her arms, leaving her mother's question hanging in the air.

"Where's JD?"

"Gone. Veronica, do you remember anything before the crash?"

"What? H-he's dead?" She stared at her mom, who pressed her lips together and squeezed her hand.

"No. I need you to answer me."

Even if her answer had been different, Veronica wouldn't have believed it. There are some losses you can't stomach, some people that you would die if you lost.

"I remember being in the car, then someone... then I..." hot tears dripped onto the thin hospital gown. She couldn't grasp it, only being in the car and then the impact. Flying forward and the sound of the windshield shattering.

"We can try again later, give her some time. The drugs probably haven't worn off." When the nurse left, she turned her head away from her mom and sobbed.

Nothing. She had nothing. JD has gone, her body in pain strong enough to make her pass out unless they gave her the drugs that make her head spin. Broken bones and bloody hands, bandages and the smell of the antiseptic hospital. Rubbing alcohol lingers from when they smeared it on her arms before needles pierced her skin for multiple purposes. There were too many to count. Luminous, artificial light blinded her when she awoke, and she wished for darkness in the hope they would let her sleep and not make her answer questions she barely knows the answer to. She held a propensity for darkness after that day.

Days later, she walked into Westerburg High school to get her books before being homeschooled for the rest of her senior year. A girl ran up to her, blonde hair flying and her eyes wide.

"Hey! Where's JD?" Heather questioned, surprised after figuring he would be with her.

"Gone." Veronica shoved the last of her books into her bag before standing from the desk.

"What happened?"

She gave the only true answer. "I don't know."


	2. Strangers

Veronica turns the water off and grabs the towel hanging over the shower rod. Wrapping herself in it, she steps out and onto the tile, eyes immediately going to her reflection in the foggy mirror. Her face is barely visible through the condensation.

Dark bags remain under her eyes despite four hours of sleep, pale skin and crackled lips adding to her sickly appearance. Sick. She isn't sick but broken, her mental health in ruins and mind tearing her apart. Dressing, she puts on enough makeup to cover the damage of sleep deprivation, adding a cheerful smile before grabbing her bag and walking out of her dorm.

Bloomington School Of Law bustles with students and teachers as they make way to their lectures and classes. Veronica pushes past groups of students and enters a classroom with a screen and chalkboard. The majority of the room consists of rows of chairs, people seated with laptops and books open. She sits in the third row and waits for class to start.

At eight, a woman with chin-length white hair walks in, her confident stance causing the students to shift and sit up straighter. Veronica skims her notes one more time before looking up.

"Good morning. Take out your materials from the Marland case. I expect you have reviewed pages 250-254?"

Murmurs fill the room. They get good work done for the next forty-five minutes. Before they can stand, Ms. Winters clicks the button on a remote and a picture shows up on the screen. A picture that causes Veronica to suck in a breath, ending in a coughing fit as the color leaves her face. Her glare is all it takes to make people look away.

"As the years go on, new methods and strategies surface and advance. This is a case in which people- and authorities- are still debating the cause of death." Winters pauses and folds her hands in front of her black skirt, pacing. "This will be your final for the first semester. You are going to prove it. I will be grading based on evidence and reasoning. Extra credit if you can prove the motive of somebody."

Veronica leans back, closing her eyes. School is all she has now, a distraction to block her mind from the past- no, to distract her from feeling. She runs on emotion when it comes to memories. Sometimes things fit together, but most of the time, the amnesia leaves her a nobody to herself.

The past is part of what defines somebody, right? Then who am I? The bell rings, startling her out of her thoughts. She has bigger problems to block out the past.

Like proving the girl she killed committed suicide.

When she gets back to her dorm, her cell phone vibrates against her side.

New message:  
Martha Dunstock  
\- Hey, haven't heard from you in a while

Veronica ignores it. Homework and solving this "case" is the first priority. Hours later, her phone buzzes again.

Martha Dunstock  
\- rlly, are you okay?

Her heart breaks a bit more. Fine, she answers. They'll never have the same connection as before, she knows that. But does Martha?

Back to school. Motive... discredit the witness... she may need to talk to people to figure out what they're doing, why they think it's a murder. Then she has to discredit them and prove why she's right. Knowing Chandler personally helps, but also makes her a suspect.

If she can't prove it a suicide, she'll have to pin it on somebody else. Last resort, she tells herself. Only if she has to.

The professional feeling comes over her, her work mode in full force. She loves when she doesn't have to think about anything else, but this case means she can't do that. Bits and pieces of that day are all she remembers. Heather taking a mug and standing in the kitchen... what happened after? Or before?

Panic rises in her chest. Why would she kill Heather?

The mess is bigger than she thought. It will involve calling people from the past, interviews, and something she never felt ready to face. Someone. For the sake of school, she has to push past the anxiety. Be professional, there's nothing to be nervous about. The words repeat in her mind as she slips on a plain black dress and heels, curling her hair and touching up her makeup.

No point in revealing how broken she is.

It doesn't take long to find an address, but her shaking hands add three minutes. She takes her anti-anxiety medication and runs out the door, calling for an Uber.

No turning back.

***

Veronica knocks twice on the apartment door. Waiting, she folds her hands in front of her, keeping a fake smile on her face and her case notes under her arm. When the door swings open, every feeling of being prepared shatters in an instant.

We're strangers. I'm not a part of his life anymore. He probably doesn't remember me.

"Hi, I'm Veronica, I go to Bloomington and I'm-"

"I know who you are."

Her smile wavers. She wipes her hands on her dress and shifts her weight. "Y-yeah..."

"Christ. Jesus freaking Christ." He takes a deep breath, blinking and shaking his head slightly. "Ronnie?"

***

"C-come on in..." JD opens the door wider, still dazed. Their emotions spin as whirlwinds inside of them, memories surfacing for him and emotions surfacing for her. 

"Nice place," Veronica comments. "Sorry for just showing up."

"No, it's fine." He runs his fingers through his hair, an anxious habit. Veronica's eyes dart from him to the apartment room. "It's just a lot."

She cracks a nervous smile. "I know. So, should I get down to it?" She sets the files down on the table and sits on the couch. He sits next to her a second later.

"Do you want something to drink, or-"

Veronica cuts him off. "I'm not here to hang out."

"Alright, then. What's going on?"

Relief floods her. Perfect. They skip all the personal things, the pity, the you-left-me-during-the-hardest-time-in-my-life talk and focus on what she came for. She runs through the assignment and how she's a suspect and people are investigating, then her ideas.

He keeps his eyes on her, a dull ache in his chest as he watches her lips move and her eyes widen when she gets to certain parts of the notes. She's thinner than she used to be, and her hair is longer. She has on more makeup than usual, and her skin is pale despite it. Noticing his eyes on her, she looks up and tilts her head at him.

"Are you listening?"

He nods, and she lets out a small laugh before continuing, sneaking a glance as she talks. Something is gone, missing from who she used to be. Drive- no, she has that. She still has the spark that keeps her going, but she doesn't look present in the moment.

The smile she wore at the door was artificial. So is her happiness, pain latent by force. 

"Okay, Stop." She closes the notebook and faces him. "Why are you looking at me?"

"You've changed."

"Really?" She rolls her eyes. "I thought I'd stayed the same all this time. What did you expect?"

"I didn't expect."

"Me either. Anyways, what do you think?" She looks at him again, pulling her buzzing phone out of her pocket. "Hold on."

New Message: Betty Finn   
\- Hey

Her brow furrows while deleting the message, shoving the phone back in her pocket. "Sorry. Random people texting me. I don't even know why I have the contact, I don't know you, Betty." When she looks up, his eyes are on her and his lips are press together. "What? Say it."

"Ronnie, Betty was your best friend in high school. In middle school, too."

The uncomfortable feeling returns. "I don't know what you're talking about. Can we work, or are you going to continue looking at me like I'm insane?"

They start again when he nods, but the thought of the text doesn't leave her mind. Who is Betty? What if he's right, and someone who she pushed away knew her for their entire life? The name is familiar, but she can't put it with a face. Worse, what if he's lying to her? Chills run down her arms. A new memory clicks into place, them in a 7/11.

"Ronnie, you're zoning out."

"I-I'll be right back," she says quickly, standing and running into the hall. Her body wants fresh air but her legs are too heavy to take her downstairs. Sliding down against the wall, she squeezes her eyes shut and tries to block the waves of loneliness and tornado of emotions she can't name. Who knew seeing him would trigger an explosion. 

Leaning back, she cherishes the silence for a minute. I wasn't ready for this. Someone sits down next to her.

"Retrograde Amnesia," she says before he can ask. The words echo in the hall and leave a blanket of silence.

"I'm sorry."

"For what? You weren't what took my entire life away." She glances at him, moving away an inch in fear that they'll brush against each other. Once you touch someone, you can't take it back. Touching people binds you to them. She can't risk attachment.

"My dad died a few months ago," he says, keeping his voice monotonous.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"I see your point," Veronica sighs, a small laugh leaving her. "You have to talk at the funeral?"

"The hospital wouldn't let me leave for the funeral, and I didn't really care."

Her head snaps up. "What happened? If you don't mind me-"

"I was going to do something stupid. A neighbor found the note and convinced me to check myself in. I planned on going anyway if things got bad... I went for you."

Don't make this about me. "What?" She continues staring straight ahead.

"I wanted to see you again," he shrugs.

This time she can't hold back her tears. "Then why didn't you?" As fast as the question is out, she's on her feet and walking back inside the apartment to gather her things. "I have to go, I just wanted to tell you about the whole Chandler thing." 

"Yeah, let me know if I can help." His voice seems to stab her. She tucks the case files under her arm again, trying to regain composure. They'll have to see each other again to cover this up since Veronica has the Law books and he has the memories.

"Why did we kill Heather?" She blurts with one foot in the doorway. "Do I want to know?" He scratches the back of his neck, one hand in the pocket of his jeans. "Never mind. Bye, I'll... see you soon."

She runs downstairs without looking back. They started something bigger than she thought, leaving him with the memories of things he's glad she doesn't have to live with. It's all lies, it has to be. Why would he want to see her again after leaving her in ruins with broken bones and a broken heart?

Veronica can't rely on people. She can't let herself believe that they're telling the truth, but she'll have to. That thought terrifies her. Him of all people, mental help or not. The amnesia leaves her more vulnerable than ever. How is she supposed to hold herself together enough to see him even more?

He left her for a reason. People don't change that much, do they? The doctors told her that exposing herself to things from her past may speed recovery, but all that seeing him brought up was a whole lot of pain. Their love had been ephemeral and fake. That or her bargaining for a reason why he did what he did has left her with a conclusion that isn't any more painful than the others are. 

A part of her will always be missing because of what he did. She has scars from the crash, but the worst ones aren't on the surface. She doesn't remember much of how things were before he left, meaning she didn't get a drop of closure.

They're picking up where they left off. This time, as strangers.


	3. It's All Lies

It seems that everyone who takes Criminal Law 101 at Bloomington is talking about one thing: the final. Sure, it's coming up, but they chatter about it for a different reason.

They think Veronica did it.

She passes a group of kids, her name drifting from the conversation. Now she wants to know why they killed Heather even more.

"Hi."

She turns to see a girl with dark, curly hair framing her round face, light makeup on with a light yellow blouse.

"Hey," Veronica says quietly.

The girl holds out her hand. "I'm Peggy."

"Veronica." They shake hands and continue walking, Peggy seating herself next to her. The class doesn't start for another five minutes.

"I was wondering if you wanted to work on the case together?"

Veronica purses her lips, fiddling with a gold bracelet on her left arm. She can't remember how she got it. Not usually the person who prefers to work with people, she considers Peggy's offer. She may be able to help, as long as they're on the same side.

"Do you think it was suicide?"

Peggy nods eagerly. "From where the cup fell and the angles-"

"I'll help."

***

Veronica isn't ready to tell Peggy about her amnesia. She doesn't tell people unless they're close, and she refuses to let herself get close to people anymore. They sit on the floor of her dorm with papers spread out around them. Their questions and conclusions are rarely disparate, causing the hour to contain more productivity than Veronica expected. Peggy knows when to talk and when not to, something most of the people at Bloomington don't.

She leaves with Peggy's number and promises that they'll go get coffee or shop sometime and definitely meet up for study dates. Her energy is exciting but draining. Veronica walks out with an aching neck and not a word left in her. Peggy would rhapsodize about something for ten-minutes spans, not letting her get a word in. Veronica now knows about her two sisters who must never let her talk, the cat that one of her sister's named Alex, and how she often despises her family's wealth.

On the the walk back to her own dorm she finds herself thinking about it all. What if that had been her life instead of this? What is she'd had sisters and a cat and enough money to buy the law school if she wanted to? It has to be better than this.

Mourning the past won't make it disappear and won't give you a chance to relive it. But it's still a part of you, something that you learn from and sometimes enjoy remembering. Now it's the ghost that follows her around, chunks of time missing and details driving her insane when she can't recall them.

She sits in her dorm at the desk and reads through a textbook, scanning for methods she could use. She finished her homework at Peggy's. Deciding to skip dinner, she pulls a shoebox out from under her bed, taking the top off and flipping through the contents one by one.

Pictures. Moments captured that can't be deleted. There's something relieving about it being in print in front of her, knowing that nothing is going to take it from her. It's permanent and already set in stone.

Photos were all she had after the crash. Snippets of the past she longed to remember and random items. Photo after photo of her and JD, some of the other girls and some random activities and objects. He redefined love for her, twisting it into something dark and containing broken promises that lead to tsunamis of pain.

She shoves the shoebox back under the bed and stands, wiping nonexistent dust off of her jeans. Her dreams used to be her safe haven, but now they're plagued with so many nightmares it makes her feel better to stay awake. Music brings back a feeling of nostalgia that she can't attach to anything, with nothing belonging to her. Her mind is miles away and sometimes she doubts ownership of her thoughts. It was so easy for everything to be wiped away.

The phone rings. She clicks the button so that it won't vibrate and tosses it on the bed, setting up her laptop. Maybe binge-watching a show about people who's problems are bigger than hers will be comforting.

She should be happy. Happy to be out of Westerburg, away from the girls who made her life hell, and happy that JD's getting help while she's at college. But the heartbreak has a grip on her heart like a hand grenade.

As the family on the screen gets into a car, the thoughts start rolling. Why did she get in the car in the first place? Why did-

Something clicks.

She wipes her eyes, hands shaking as she shoves her phone in her pocket and slips on her shoes. The thought doesn't fade as she calls a taxi.

"You okay, ma'am?" The driver asks, noticing her shaking hands and tear stains. Her eyes are wide with panic.

"Yes, thank you," she sniffles, putting on a small smile.

***

JD gets home from work and tosses his keys on the table, stretching and letting out a sigh. He settled down a while ago, got a job at an auto-shop nearby, and has had time to write on the side. He's supposed to be happy.

Veronica took everything. The color, life, and emotion. Dull is what the routine has become without her smile, silent and dreary without her laugh. He broke her heart without having a choice. The last things he got to hear were her screams.

Then she was gone.

It turns out the piece of his life she lived in wasn't something with her in it, but everything that revolved around her. You can't give someone the world without the fear of losing everything, but there's always the reassurance it won't happen- that it only happens to the unlucky.

Why did it happen to them?

He sighs again and picks a hospital form up off the kitchen table, glancing at his name before throwing it back down. The anger remains. Seeing her face caused heartbreak to surface, grief that still hurts more than a dull ache. His dad didn't leave feelings like that. The last time he felt that kind of pain was when a library in Texas exploded before him.

Any therapist will tell you not to do things for someone but for your own well-being, not to rely on others to help you. But he did it solely for her due to the faint hope that he would see her again, knowing that if he did, he'd want her to have something good to see. An improvement from the devastation. It's all he can give her.

Changing his shirt and debating what to make for dinner, the thing he least expected happens when someone knocks on the door.

The knock is frantic, urgent. It sends nerves to his stomach and forces him to clear his throat before opening it.

"Ronnie-"

She pushes past him, walking into the apartment. Her shoulders are hunched, smeared mascara under her eyes and her lips trembling. She sits down on the couch before pacing with her arms crossed in front of her chest.

"Vodka. Straight."

His eyes remain on her wide and glossy ones as he pours her a drink. "Your tastes sure have changed."

Nope, I just don't remember what I used to like, she thinks. But I need something.

He hands her a cup- plastic for the sake of her shaking hands- and then motions for her to sit down.

"Ronnie, what's going on?" He goes to put a hand on her back but lets it fall when she holds a hand up to stop him. The second they touch she doesn't belong to herself anymore. But did she ever?

The alcohol burns going down, but she finishes the cup before taking a deep breath and setting it on the table.

"I remember something." She fumbles with the string of her hoodie, regretting not taking her medication.

"That's good," he says softly, not wanting to pressure but needing to know what upset her.

"You were in the car with me that day." Her words knock the air out of him, regret and memories hitting harder than a truck. She looks up at him, her eyes rimmed with red and filled with confusion. "But... then why...?"

He takes a deep breath. "They lied to you, Ronnie. About everything."


	4. Remember With You

He wasn't expecting to have this conversation with her so soon. Ever, in fact. She notices his constant shifting, licking his lips, and running his hand through his hair and knows that something is wrong.

"Tell me."

"Veronica, it's..." he trails off with a small exhale, unable to meet her eye.

Ever since the crash, she's known when someone holds pain in their eyes or bad news on the tip of their tongue. He contains both. She puts a hand on his arm without thinking, pulling away after a second. It caused him to finally look at her. So much for the rules, she says in her mind.

"What happened?"

"They said I was distracting you, blamed me for the crash. I was in the hospital for a few days, then they let me go and-"

"Who?"

"What?"

"Who blamed you?"

He presses his lips together again. "Your parents. I don't know what they told you, but they kept threatening court and a bunch of other things if I didn't leave."

Veronica shakes her head, fresh tears staining her face. He could be lying, playing the victim. But if he isn't, and there's someone else responsible for the months of heartbreak...

"God. How have I been so stupid?!" She sobs, standing up. "I... why didn't you call me? Why didn't you tell me?"

He stands as well, following her to the kitchen. "Because it was better, Veronica. You were recovering and I was too, and that way-"

"Are you kidding me?!" She slams her hand on the counter. "Better? I would have stopped them, this isn't right. And what the hell do you mean, better? Those months were hell for me!" 

"I know! They were hell for me too, but I knew that I was hurting you and you needed time-"

"You weren't hurting me, you hurt me by leaving me to go through everything alone!" Something flickers in his eye before disappearing. She doesn't know, she doesn't remember. "I get that my parents did that, and I'm sorry. But when we turned eighteen... you could have called." Her shoulders go limp, her hands balled into fists as she sniffles and blinks back tears. She broke down, and that's enough weakness to reveal. "You could have said something."

You don't know, he thinks. "Ronnie-"

"Forget it, I'm leaving." She pushes past him and walks to the door, sniffling again.

"Veronica."

"Bye, Jason." She slips out the door and runs downstairs, letting her tears fall when she gets the sidewalk. Too many thoughts at once overwhelm her mind. The crash, the lies, and her loss of breath when they touched.

The chills had to be her imagination.

Not wanting to go back to her dorm yet, she decides to walk down the street. Her chest sends a longing through her, a pain that makes even loneliness seem a bliss. The longing to remember everything, to have herself back and have back and for things to be simple again. He looks at her as if she'll break at any second when all she wants is for him to look at her like he used to, however he used to. Were they in love at one point? She can't recall what it felt like, but the thought of somebody being there for her causes her tears to fall faster.

It's all gone.

She passes a drug store and a small antique shop. Why would her parents do this? Sure, they didn't like him much, but the pain those months put her through didn't have to be that bad. It isn't his fault but theirs. That day, she realizes, she was only a toy for them. Everyone else got to decide her future, her emotions, and her past.

That scares her more than anything.

That day she was vulnerable and today she is, too. She can't have the world in her hands anymore, the amnesia took that from her with her memories. It took JD, family members, friends, if she had any. It took her future now, as well.

Focus on Chandler, she reminds herself. Focus on not being sent to jail. JD can help her, but what if the things he knows are things she doesn't want to remember, or something worse than what she already knows?

She shakes the thoughts and looks around at the dirty streets, cars, and taxis passing every few seconds and causing a blast of air to hit her. It sends goosebumps down her covered arms and legs, brown hair blowing into her face. Turning back, she speed-walks to the college, not wanting to pay for a Taxi or Uber.

Her dorm room is silent. Too quiet, and she finds herself missing him. No, I just miss talking to someone. Not him.

The buzz of her phone startles her back to the moment.

Unknown: Hey  
Unknown: It's Peggy :-)

Veronica: Hey

New Contact: Peggy S.

Peggy: How r u?

Veronica tosses her phone on the bed without answering, not in the mood for small talk. Nothing to do now but sleep.

***  
Rain pours down the next day, rattling the windows of Bloomington. A warm morning meets a cloudy afternoon, the sky darkening every hour. When Veronica shows up at the apartment building, the rain has soaked through her shirt and jeans.

"Hey," she says when JD opens the door. Her hair is wild, a sloppy smile on her face.

"Jesus. Did you run here?"

"Maybe." She walks in and tosses her bag on the couch, taking her shoes off. "I brought the books and snacks, and there's this girl named Peggy who told me all about physics and now I'm debating dropping out of law school." She looks up, flushed and breathless. "It can help solve cases, is my point." Her cheeks bright red from the cold, she takes a breath and rubs her arms.

"Hold on." He walks down the hallway, a small smile on his face as he shakes his head. "Really, Veronica, you're going to freeze to death."

"It was worth it!" She calls back through giggles. He tosses her what looks like a T-shirt and goes to put on a pot of coffee while she disappears into the bathroom to change.

Why do things feel so casual? Are they trying to make up for last time, for how they left off? She changes into a loose t-shirt and flannel that's almost a dress on her, not buttoning it all the way. Her mind already feels at ease, and she's made this a home without realizing it.

Crap.

Brushing her tangled hair with her fingers, the mirror gets one last smile before she runs out the door.

"I'm ready to start!" The aroma of coffee hits her. "That smells good. What-" she stops in her tracks to meet the three people staring at her.

Her smile fades. "H-Hey, I'm guessing you're here for legal help-"

"No, we're here to see you," one of the girls in the doorway says. Reddish hair falls down her back, and her face shape and stance seems familiar. The other girl gives her a big grin.

"I... I'm sorry, have we met?" Veronica takes a tentative step forward. "Are you guys from Bloomington or...?"

JD gives her a sad look, causing her to tilt her head.

Betty rolls her eyes. "Very funny, Veronica. It's us."

JD opens the door a bit wider, letting them step inside. Veronica plays with her hands, staring down at the floor.

"This is Betty Finn, and this is Heather Duke," he tells her. She gives a small, nervous nod.

"W-What? Is this some kind of joke?" Heather spits, giving them a cold look. Her right hand rests on her hip. "I heard you were in a crash. That sucks."

Veronica looks helplessly to JD, who blinks in confusion.

"You didn't tell them?"

"I-"

"Tell us what?" Heather demands. Betty puts a hand on her shoulder.

"I don't... I don't remember, I'm sorry. What do you guys need?" Veronica's hands shake by her sides. JD puts a hand on her back, a sense of understanding going between them.

"Are you kidding me? Knock it off." Heather steps forward, causing Veronica to step back. "We came by to see you. You've worried poor Betty for so long... what's going on?"

"I-I'm fine..."

Betty pushes past Duke and tries to hug her, only for Veronica to flinch and push her away as gently as possible. Heather gives a small scoff when she does so.

"Seriously. Are you two screwing again?"

"No, I-"

"God, this isn't funny!"

"I'm not lying. I don't remember!" Veronica shouts, tears threatening to spill over.

"Ronnie, I think you should tell them," JD whispers to her. She gulps and steps forward.

"I have amnesia." Silence follows her words, and not the comfortable kind. The vulnerable feeling is back, her secret out in the open for them to judge. Betty hears the undertone of nerves and a pang of sympathy runs through her. However, Heather is the first to speak.

"What?" She laughs. "Amnesia? From the crash?"

"Yeah."

Betty and Heather exchange glances as she trembles. Then they both crack smiles. Heather begins to laugh, slamming her hand down on the counter.

"Very funny."

"She's not lying," JD says, looking at Duke. Someone hasn't changed since high school, he decides. "Retrograde amnesia. Look it up."

"So, What happened the day of the crash?" Betty bites her lip, JD sighing. "How much do you remember by now? Or is this just an excuse so that-"

"Okay, I think you guys should-"

"Do you know how much some people care about you? I mean, they're giving up because you're being so rude, but all we want is to keep in contact with you. You could have just said you were screwing Jesse James and too busy for us."

"I'm not- I'm in law school now, and I'm here because we're working together on-"

"I'm just saying, you could have contacted us. I'm not surprised you and Martha fell apart." Heather shakes her head. "You're losing us just like you lost her."

"I'm not trying to ignore you guys... things have been hard, and I don't really remember-"

"How do you forget your best friends?" Heather asks, not thinking through the fact that she can't control what she remembers. "Did you hit your head? What happened, anyway? If you can't tell us, why should we believe you?"

"I was in the crash! I don't remember it-"

"I get it, you say don't remember anything. But-"

"Heather, calm down." Betty presses her lips together and gives them a soft smile.

"No! She's using this for attention, and you don't get to treat people like..." as she rants on and on about attention-seeking, her running back to JD, and things from high school that Veronica doesn't even remember, JD's anger grows. He knew that Duke after high school would be a test after the things she did out of greed and envy. Keep it away, keep it covered. His hands unclench as he exhales.

"You should leave."

"You didn't even have to work to get into the school with daddy's money, and now you're pushing us all away while you slut it up here with someone who wants nothing more than to move on! High school's over, Veronica. Stop with the drama." She shakes her head, cheeks red and a hard stare coming from her eyes.

Betty looks from person to person, contemplating whether to step in or not.

"I'm sorry," Veronica says in barely a whisper. Heather's words echo in her mind, confusion mixing with pain that makes her chest ache. I'm alone. Dumb slut. You're not a part of his life anymore. Things are never going to be okay again.

I should have died that day.

"See? I told you she was faking it." Heather motions for Betty to follow her as she turns around.

Veronica lets out something between a scream and a wail, wiping her tear-stained face with her hand only for more to spill over. Both girls stop in the doorway.

"Jesus, I think I found McNamara's twin," Duke sneers before walking down the hallway with Betty following, her face drooping in sadness but bowed so that Duke doesn't see. The worst part is that Veronica still wants to know what school she's attending, if she's dating anyone, what her plans are, and what happened in high school. She doesn't want to know about her but about somebody, for someone to speak to her and talk as if everything's normal. As if she isn't broken.

JD closes the door behind them before turning to Veronica. She breaks down into her hands against the counter before sliding down to the floor. He sits down next to her, and all it takes is his arm around her shoulders for her to collapse on his chest in sobs. Her body trembles against him, and for the first time, he sees how thin her wrists are and how pale she is, faint scars on her arms and bags under her eyes. She looks sick. He holds her tighter, rubbing her back. Her body is relaxed for the first time since he saw her again, her emotions raw and without the mask.

"I'm so lost. Why me? Why us? Why didn't I just die, god, I'd rather be dead!" She sobs. "I can't do this." It comes out as a whisper, her voice cracking as she lets out another wail and squeezes her eyes shut. "I'm in so much pain, and they don't understand. I act like I'm happy like I'm over everything and I'm moving on, but I'm lost!" She sniffles, not bothering to wipe her face. "I'm so damn lost. And I'm alone."

"You're not alone." He looks down at her as she sobs, brushing her hair out of her face.

"I'm sorry. About the crash, and the-"

"Stop, Ronnie. You have no reason to be sorry for that."

"I ruined your life! I... I just came back here like nothing happened because I'm a lonely slut who hasn't had anybody in so long that I'm just... falling apart." Mascara drips down her cheeks, her face puffy and red.

He sighs. "You're not a slut, and you didn't ruin my life. That was your parents."

"Still. The crash... I should have died that day." Veronica buries her face in his shoulder to hide more tears, though he can feel her body shaking.

"No. Veronica, do you know what that would do to people? You still have a future-"

"The rest of my life is just recovery! When does it end?"

"When you can think about things that have happened without wincing and know that you're okay."

She shakes her head, hiccuping and then letting another sob escape her throat. "Just make it stop. I just want it to stop."

His hand runs down her back as she curls up smaller. "God, Ronnie, I wish I could. After... I wanted it to be me, I wanted you to be okay and-"

"No." She looks up, their eyes meeting. "No one deserves this type of misery. No one."

"And what makes you any different?" JD keeps his eyes on her as she sniffles, shaking her head slightly with a trembling chin. "You don't deserve this, Ronnie. And you're not alone."

"I'm broken."

"You're healing."

She shifts, wrapping her arms around his neck. Who cares if we touch? I'll never love somebody again. I can't. There's still so much she wants to say and so much she wants to ask, but her burning throat and stinging eyes make her only want to do one thing.

She shuts her eyes again and snuggles as close as possible, letting the world fade to black.


	5. Tarnished

Veronica awakens to the smell of food on a couch she at first doesn't recognize. For some reason, the first things she thinks of aren't recent. My name is Veronica Sawyer, I'm from Bloomington School of Law, I'm-

"Hey, Ronnie. There are Chinese food and pizza on the counter. How do you feel?" JD kneels down next to her.

"Fine. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Stop apologizing, you were exhausted." He gives her a small smile that appears as more of a smirk before standing. For some reason, it leaves her breathless. Last night wasn't professional. Breaking down in her ex's arms wasn't and falling asleep on his couch is to her the opposite of that. Tomorrow, they'll get back on track figuring out how to prove Chandler's cause of death. For now... the delicious aroma drifting from the kitchen is too much to pass up on. She stands and stretches, fixing her shirt and clearing her throat.

When she passes the mirror on the way to the kitchen, the severity of the breakdown hits her in the form of her reflection. Smeared mascara and eyeliner stare back at her, her nose and eyes still pink. She sighs and walks into the kitchen.

"You have some color back in your face," he comments when seeing her.

"Mhmm." She keeps a blank expression, taking a bite of pizza. "We should focus on motives. People from Westerburg are probably getting their phones blown up by law students," she says after swallowing. "Maybe if we lie-"

"Veronica."

She looks up. "What?" When he says nothing, laughing and shaking his head with that smirk again. "Well?" She crosses her arms. "Speak. And get that smile off your face."

"Right back with the mask on, aren't we?" He laughs again before seeing her face.

"Excuse me?" She lets out a laugh of her own, but hers is filled with confusion and irritation. "What are you talking about?" The wrong word will send her back to tears, and a pang of loathing directed at herself runs through her. She showed him the vulnerable parts of her, the pain she hasn't let anyone else in on. Now it's as if they have strings binding them together, a connection that she can't remove and shared words she can't take back. He could use them to control her as everyone else seems to. Why wouldn't he?

He puts a hand on her back, leaving chills she tries to ignore. "I just mean that you don't need to rush yourself back into stress."

She shoves his hand away. "Why? Because I'm too broken to handle what will soon be my job?" Her eyes remain cold, making his chest ache from a mere stare.

"What? No, that's not what I-"

"You don't need to look at me differently, and if I'd known that you would I would have never shown up."

His face remains unreadable, lips parted. "Veronica, I don't look at you differently."

"You look at me like I'm broken!" She shouts, tossing down pizza crust and clenching her hands into fists. "I should have expected that. I'm just the mystery girl from the past with amnesia who has nobody and-"

"What are you talking about?"

She lets out a frustrated groan as tears roll down her cheeks. "Go ahead and say it. Things aren't going to be normal again. And the crash was my fault. You'll never forgive me for that, and I'll never forgive me for that. But do you know what it's like to be looked at like you're laying in a hospital bed every day? To use your stupid little phrase, can you blame me for putting on a mask?" She shakes her head, her eyes staying on the floor. "Because every time I take it off, people just..."

"Try to help you?"

She looks up. "What?"

JD sighs, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms. "That's all I've wanted to do, Veronica. That's all people want to do, but you-"

"I can't trust people, what do you expect!? And why do you want to help me, because I'm a sick, broken girl who came running back to you because she's lonely and you've pitied me ever since I lost everything?" She snaps, taking a step back. His face changes, a type of pain that seems familiar though it isn't seeping into his eyes.

"No, Veronica. It's because I've blamed myself ever since you lost everything. And now you're back and I'm looking at you knowing that letting you go was the worst thing I ever did."

Her mouth falls open a bit, words in the back of her throat refusing to leave it. She feels her expression soften, her mouth relaxing and lips remaining parted as she sucks in a breath. "You can't blame yourself for something my parents did, JD."

"I could have-"

Veronica holds a hand up and takes a step forward. "You couldn't have fixed this. Even if you had been there, I would still be like this. Things would still be like this." The lump in her throat refuses to leave. "This wasn't your fault."

When her only response is a nod, she takes a step closer and hugs him. They seem to fit against each other, rocking a bit as she closes her eyes. We should get back to work, we shouldn't be doing this. But her body won't let her leave and her mind isn't being much of a help. When they do break apart, a tug of desire throws her off balance, her mind associating his touch with affection and comfort. She turns and walks over to the couch, trying to get the heat out of her cheeks and clear her mind.

It was nothing. I'm just touch-starved. She plasters a smile on again.

"Should we get back to work?"


	6. In The Deep

They talk, go through books, take notes, and eat until the sky is black and Veronica is half-asleep.

"Ronnie."

"...Yes, the number for a hit and run is the law-"

"Ronnie."

She jerks awake, looking around. "Huh?"

JD laughs, bringing plates to the kitchen as Veronica rubs her eyes. "Where... oh. So, what did we decide on?"

"For which part?"

"The "we killed somebody and now I have to prove it's a suicide, which it isn't, as everybody whispers about me part!"

"Got it."

"It's just an assignment but... what if something happens? Something always happens."

He sits back down next to her. "Like...?"

"I don't know. Like them finding out we killed somebody?" She sighs, leaning back and rubbing her temple. "This is a mess!" She purses her lips and stands, stretching. "But it's a mess for tomorrow."

He nods. "I'll call you a cab."

When he walks off, Veronica gathers her books and walks around the apartment. She looks over a few books, glancing at small decorations and things that seem to be there only to take up space. There aren't any pictures of her- of them. She pushes that thought away as sadness wraps around her heart. Why would there be? They were removed from each other's lives after the incident. Why would he want to be reminded of her?

"Ronnie, they'll be here in-"

"What happened after?"

He knows she's talking about the crash just by the seriousness of her voice, the sad undertone, and her quietness while speaking.

"You tell me."

Veronica stares at the floor, shifting while memories run through her mind. "Uh... I was in the hospital for a few days, apparently, the injuries weren't as bad as they thought, but they still kept me there. When I got home, I didn't know where I was." Tears prick her eyes, the remembrance containing more pain than she thought. "I didn't know my own home. I thought I was crazy, and my parents seemed to think that too. But the worst part is I couldn't feel anything. Not because of hospital drugs."

JD crosses his arms and leans against the counter. What she's describing is too familiar. Scarily familiar.

"Sometimes I think it still hasn't worn off. As much as I try, I'll never get the feelings back." She looks up, eyes wide and serious, a sad smile tugging at her lips. A car honks and a JD's phone buzzes. Veronica grabs her jacket and bag.

"I-I'll see you tomorrow."

She runs down the steps, the yearning to run away growing as she approaches the cab.

For some reason, she wants to run right back.

***

"Alright, so I've been going through the Westerburg yearbooks. I have a list of people who could have a motive for killing her, and since you went there, I was wondering if you knew-"

"I don't remember much about Westerburg." Veronica sighs, twirling her pencil between her fingers.

Peggy tilts her head. "Okay, well you have to remember-"

"I don't."

She scoffs, pushing the yearbook closer to her. "Come on. Didn't you say she was in a clique with two other girls?"

Veronica doesn't answer. Panic has risen in her chest. She only knows what JD has told her about the Heathers and Westerburg.

"I told you, I don't remember!"

"Okay, then. Hey, where have you been lately? You aren't always at your dorm," Peggy says, drumming her fingers against her leg.

Veronica debates what to say. "Uh, a friend from high school, he's been helping me on the case."

Peggy raises a brow, lips turning down into a confused frown but eyes curious. "So you do remember high school. Is he a lawyer or something?"

"I remember some things," Veronica mumbles. "And no, he just knew Chandler." 

The curly-haired girl nods, smacking her gum. "Ah, then maybe he can help us. But be careful what you believe, alright?"

She doesn't answer Peggy, giving a mere nod and staring down at her notes. She can't pinpoint her recent feelings, the longing for him when she's alone and the happiness that momentarily fills the blank spaces loneliness has left when she's there. Barely holding on, it seems to be the only stability, the promise of safety and comfort. Dangerous it is to have that subconscious association. But she lost control the moment she stepped into his apartment.

"Whatcha thinking about?"

"Hmm?" The question snaps her out of her trance. "Nothing. So, we need to schedule interviews with those on the list and find out more about who she associated herself with. Maybe there was some bullying involved." A heaviness blossoms in her chest. She's noticed that it comes when speaking of the girl she killed.

"Right. Maybe we could talk to her parents, or-" Peggy's eyes widen as she picks up her pen. "If they have a diary or a written account of her pain... there could be concrete evidence of the bullying!" 

"Speaking of evidence... they did an autopsy, right? Well, we need the report, and if... Peggy, "mens rea!"

She tilts her head, standing, stretching, and then picking up her notepad and pen before beginning to pace. "You think she didn't know what she was doing? Isn't that for-"

"No, but that leads me to think, what if it wasn't totally her? Like... drugs or alcohol. Those could result in-"

"Feeling of depression, anger, or suicidal thoughts!" Peggy finishes.

"We need to know what she was doing the hours before her death, and if something like that was in her bloodstream... we need the autopsy report. Also, if there were any more mental health issues, that's plenty of motive."

Peggy nods eagerly. "What about the teachers at Westerburg? Even if we found the old counselor, there's the confidentiality policy... but if we found some of the teachers that worked there when she was a student, maybe they could tell us how she acted prior."

Veronica jots down notes. "There may already be interviews on record, but I don't know if they looked into it that much."

"We should start on the list of questions for the parents. I'll work on that while you do questions for the teachers and friends?"

"On it."

The girls grin at each other before scribbling down notes and questions. Veronica basks in the passion that spills from her pen and drive that overtakes her as she works. It will fade later, but she has a minute of bliss and plans to enjoy it. The heaviness and nausea from thinking about Chandler have vanished. Is that a bad thing? Shouldn't she feel guilty?

"So, tell me more about this friend," Peggy says, licking her lips and breaking the silence.

"JD? I told you, we were friends in high school," Veronica answers without looking up from her notebook.

"Just friends?"

"W-why do you- Yeah, well, no, we dated for a little bit. Do you think we're missing anything? I know you already have the-"

"Messy breakup?" She raises a brow, a playful smirk playing at her lips. Veronica snorts.

"You could say that." If only you knew, she thinks. It leads her down the tunnel she's been faced with since meeting Peggy. Why hasn't she told her about the amnesia? Or the crash? It feels like a betrayal. Would she look at her differently if she knew?

The past forms the majority of the temptation to push her away. It screams that they're too close, that she should be alone. After all, Peggy shouldn't have to be in her mess.

"You okay?" Her voice breaks her train of worrying thoughts.

"Yeah, we need to figure out how we're going to get the autopsy report."

"Yup." Peggy pauses before continuing, her expression unreadable. "If someone manages to prove it's a murder, do you think they'd reopen the case?"

Veronica thinks for a long moment, shifting her position. "I don't know," she finally answers, now laying on her stomach with one foot swinging idly in the air. "But we definitely have our work cut out for us." A sigh escapes her lips. A yawn escapes Peggy's.

"Agreed."

"My place tomorrow morning?"

***

Veronica wakes up with a scream. Bolting upright, she puts a hand against the wall to keep herself steady and continues to pant, eyes still a million pounds from exhaustion.

After her hands stop shaking, she picks up her phone from the nightstand. There are still thirty-minutes until her alarm goes off, but trying to fall back asleep is pointless.

\- Hey, you up?

She sends it before she can think twice. She has to ask JD about later anyway. Her phone buzzes a second later.

\- Yeah

\- Is it cool if Peggy and I come by later? She wants a recorded interview apparently.

\- Yeah, sometime after 4 work?

\- sure. Why u up so early?

\- it's almost five

\- you need sleep

\- so do you

Veronica cracks a smile and rolls her eyes.

\- nightmares don't agree.   
\- Trust me I'm used to it

\- Every night?

\- almost. I can brush it off faster than I used to by now, it still sucks though.   
\- I have to get ready to meet Peggy, see you later

She tosses her phone on the bed and goes to take a shower. The smile still hasn't left her face.


	7. You Can't Outrun This

"I brought coffee- woah, that's a lot of makeup." Peggy enters Veronica's dorm later, dressed in a formal yellow blouse, the same as the day they became friends. Her black pants and belt make her look like some kind of lawyer or business-woman. Her hair is tied into a low ponytail and resting on her shoulder, a few loose strands framing her face and clear skin that Veronica envies.

"Thanks." She isn't wrong. Veronica emerges from the bathroom, grabbing the coffee and taking a small sip before setting it down. Her lips are a light red, cheeks a soft pink and mascara coating her lashes. Her hair lays in loose curls, wavy around her neck. Peggy smirks and shakes her head, causing her to raise a brow. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Nothing. Just try not to make out too much, it's harder to get answers when you can't hear words clearly."

Veronica almost chokes. "What? We- no." She giggles and shakes her head, trying to get the heat out of her cheeks. Why is she such a mess?

Peggy sighs and puts her hand on her hip. "Whatever you say. You ready?"

"Yeah." They leave a few minutes later, chatting about what questions they have and gossiping about classmates. It feels normal to Veronica. If only that feeling could last.

"So..." Peggy eyes her as they walk downstairs. "Anything you want to tell me before we get there?"

"What's there to tell?" She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, guard raising without her realizing it.

"Hmmm, what about everything? I've been through messy breakups before, you know. Did he cheat or something?"

"No."

"Did you?"

"No." Veronica snaps this time. She should give her an explanation but struggles to find the words. There isn't much she can say without revealing everything: the crash, the amnesia, the hospital and the painful silence. Knowing about her parents doesn't make the heartache disappear, knowing the truth doesn't erase the months of lies. The crash will always lay between, the elephant in the room in the form of crumpled metal and a shattered dashboard that bring the sound of approaching sirens back to their minds. The sirens still live in her nightmares, the warning sign of the forced separation of the lovers that would follow.

The ache comes back. She walked out of that hospital with nothing but confusion, lost. She could only remember the people with the biggest impact on her life but couldn't grasp the reason why they remained after everything else was washed away. She still fails to, but Chandler's murder may have been part of it.

They arrive at the apartment a few minutes later, but pause outside the door as arguing erupts from the other side.

"You want everything! I-"

"I thought you wanted something deeper with me, but it turns out I'm just another... filler."

"I'm telling you, there's nothing going on between-"

"Crap! It's like you have this entire life I don't know about. With people you haven't bothered to tell me about. And what are you leaving me for, some girl from your past that you were probably with for a night?"

"No. Amy, it's not- we're just not... I can't give it to you, Okay?!"

"I realize that now! That I'm not worth it, that you don't want anything more than this..."

"I didn't say that, dammit! You deserve something more than this, but you're not going to find that with me."

The response is barely audible. "I know that now." Footsteps approach the door, growing louder. A sob follows as she door swings open and a girl shoves past them. Veronica turns and watches as she runs down the stairs, a tight red dress hugging her sides and heels in her hands. Her brown hair is the last thing to disappear from sight.

"Well, she sounds like a bitch." Veronica turns back to Peggy, who holds out her hand to JD. "Seriously, that was a total-"

"Peggy." She shoots her a look as they walk inside.

"So, we have a few questions about-"

"Chandler's suicide? I know."

Peggy nods, giving him a tight smile and flopping down next to Veronica on the couch. "Sit. So, first off, have you had any alcohol, drugs, or other mind-altering substances in the last twenty-four hours?"

JD and Veronica's eyes meet, something passing between them. She doesn't know if it's about that Amy girl or their secret. 

"Uh... could you two stop staring at each other and answer the question?" Peggy has taken out her notebook and phone, finger hovering over the red button to start the recording.

"No, I haven't. What-"

"I ask the questions. What was your relationship to Heather Chandler before her death?"

He raises a brow and glances from Veronica to Peggy. "Uh... we didn't talk. She was pretty occupied with her popularity throne."

This earns a nod. "And would you say her popularity was known throughout the school?"

"People were scared of her. Intimidated. Some people envied her, and some of them just hated her. They treated people horribly, I don't blame them."

She nods again, looking at Veronica briefly before looking back at him, where her eyes stay as she flips the page. "Did you know of any bullying going on?"

Veronica sucks in a breath, palms sweating as she re-straightens the papers on her lap. She can't come to a conclusion about her nerves, but the murder seems bigger now. Is she going to be questioned at some point? People have already messaged her, asking to meet to discuss "the assignment." By now, almost everyone seems to know about her attending Westerburg.

"Look, that school was like the Hunger Games. She probably got a lot more hate than I saw, and most of it was verbal." He leans back, thinking over the part of his life he's buried for a cause. Veronica seems to be on edge, her body tense and face expressionless. "People would write "slut" on her locker, sometimes pass her notes."

"So there was some slut-shaming going on?" Peggy scribbles down notes.

"Yeah, I think that was the main thing. She'd go to these parties, and uh, a guy from Jackson College raped her, and I don't know if that was the only one."

"Okay, okay, so... do you know who exactly?"

JD shakes his head. "I don't keep in contact with people from high school, and I told you, he didn't even go to Westerburg."

She nods and closes the notebook. "Anything else you knew about that could have contributed to her death?"

Yeah, maybe that we gave her drain cleaner, Veronica thinks. I think that contributed to it quite a bit. They ask a few more questions, but Veronica's mind everywhere but the apartment even as she longs to put the pieces together.

Peggy finally turns off the recorder, putting it in her bag and folding her hands on her lap as she leans back. "So, how long were you two dating?"

Veronica stands, busying herself with putting papers in order. "Alright, thanks, I think Peggy and I can-"

"Come on, Veronica. I mean, I don't blame her, based on what I've heard. Oh, who's Amy? Her voice gives me a headache."

"You're not the only one."

Veronica turns back around, throwing her bag over her shoulder as JD and Peggy stand up. The smirk from yesterday is back, playing at her lips and bringing the same nerves back to Veronica. Peggy won't let it drop, ignoring the death glares and begging looks she's sent.

"Come on. We have work to do," Veronica pleads, pushing her towards the door.

"Or do you just want me to leave so that you two can screw?"

She goes redder, continuing to push her towards the door. "We're not- that isn't- come on." Finally, Veronica gets hold of her wrist and drags her out the door. They jog down the stairs, unacknowledged tension hanging in the air between them.

"Okay," Peggy says as they walk down the sidewalk. "But you could have told me he was hot."

"Would you stop?"

"Sorry, you-"

"That means shut up." She pretends not to see the hurt look on her face. They don't say another word until arriving back at the college.

"I'll see you-"

Veronica is already gone.

***

TWO DAYS LATER

"Good morning. I'm going to get straight to the point as to why you are all here." Ms. Winters folds her hands in front of her, pacing in front of a small group of students. Her face, as always, is serious. "The students who scored best on the last assessment and frankly, those of who I like, have been chosen to take part in the legal clinic."

Veronica looks around at the group. Most of the students she's never bothered to get to know, but she begins to regret it now that they'll have to work together. She only knows two other people- Caroline and Peggy- out of the five she stands alongside to.

"One student, at the end of the class, will be rewarded with this." Ms. Winters points to the chalkboard, where a number is written, a number big enough to make the student's eyes widen to the size of plates as they stare, open mouthed. "A years tuition payed."

Chandler's case will make it or break it, Veronica thinks, the voice in her head as nervous as she would sound if she tried to talk. When the class is over, Peggy catches up to her in the hallway.

"Everyone's talking about the money. Do you think you'll-"

Veronica walks faster, eyes staring straight ahead. "Ronnie, why are you so mad? I'm sorry for prying into-"

"My life even after I've told you not to several times? Yeah, okay." She jogs up to her dorm, throwing the door open and tossing books down on the bed. "We don't need your help. And it's Veronica."

Peggy scoffs. "We? By that you mean you and your ex, who you are barely comfortable around-"

"You're the reason I wasn't comfortable!"

"I don't understand, Veronica. You act like my friend but don't tell me anything and then blow up on me for being curious."

"You don't know me. Just... go." She turns, fists clenched by her sides.

"Of course I don't know you! You won't tell me anything." 

"Leave!" 

"Fine. You'll be sorry, Sawyer." Veronica slams the door as Peggy runs out.

The next day, Veronica finds a note. Not in JD's, Peggy's, or anyone she recognizes's handwriting. The note is printed, untraceable.

I KNOW WHAT YOU DID. Amnesia-girl does too. You can't outrun this.


	8. Dangerous Waters

The note seems to stare back at her, taunting her, from where it rests on top of a page labeled "How To Get Away With Murder" for her criminal 100 class.

Who knows about Chandler?

She runs out of the classroom and up to her dorm.

\- are you home? It's urgent

Tossing the phone on her bed while she awaits a response, she begins to look through her bags, purses, and pencil cases. It's only a matter of minutes before her bed and desk are trashed from her desperate searching. After she's sure the room isn't bugged, she flops down on her bed, heart still pounding out of her chest.

Panic takes over. Someone knows about Heather. Someone knows she killed somebody! They never clarified it was about Chandler, but what else could it mean? Whoever wrote it also knows about the amnesia. But why does that matter?

Her phone buzzes, and she picks it up while jumping to her feet.

\- Yeah, what's wrong?

Shoving her phone in her back pocket, she grabs a small purse, the note, and her wallet before scurrying out the door.

***

Maybe Veronica can't outrun the past, but she can outrun most of the cars on the city street. That realization is made while panting outside of the door after knocking so rapidly, you would have thought someone was seconds behind her. She made sure that no one was while on her way, constantly checking over her shoulder. She gives a mental apology to all the people she ran into.

JD opens the door not knowing what to expect. A terrified-looking, messy-haired Veronica to tumble into the room and begin talking so fast he can't follow was at the bottom of the list.

"...A-And I think my rooms bugged but I went through some of my s-stuff and... they left this but I don't know who, I'm sorry and now-" She stops to catch her breath and thrusts the note at him. He looks from her wide eyes to the words that almost gave her a heart attack.

"Ronnie, this is most likely a prank. Who knows about the amnesia? They probably told somebody, and-"

"No one! Not even Peggy." Veronica paces faster. She never told anybody about the crash, and her teachers don't know unless her parents informed them behind her back. "I don't think it's a joke. Someone knows about Heather." She quickly explains about the money and the clinic.

"Okay, everyone wants this money, right? Someone's trying to scare you-"

"But what if they're not? "I know what you did..." that sounds like blackmail." She sits at the counter as he pours them drinks. "JD. I need you to believe me." Their eyes meet as he slides her a half-full glass. "I don't know who else will."

JD stays silent for a long moment, observing her face scrunched up in worry and chipped red nails that she drums against the counter, her other hand wrapped around the glass tight enough to steal the color from her knuckles. She bites her lip, face pale but cheeks still pink from running.

"I believe you," he says finally. "But what do you want to do? Anyone could have written that."

"I know." She swirls her drink, staring at the counter. "And sorry for getting you involved, I'm just paranoid, I guess."

"Don't be. I would be too."

Veronica nods, giving a shaky laugh. She sips her drink to keep from hyperventilating. It burns going down, but she needs it. Sliding off the chair and setting the glass down, she moves to the couch. JD sits down next to her, watching in concern. Eventually, she cracks a smile and tries to change the subject.

"It smells like cheap perfume in here. Amy get over herself?"

JD groans and rolls his eyes. "It's perfume, but believe me, it isn't cheap. And no, it's Eve's."

Veronica cocks a brow, kicking her shoes off and tucking her legs under her while leaning against the back of the couch. "Eve?" He gives a mere nod but raises a brow in return when Veronica's questioning eyes don't leave him. "And... care to tell me who that is? I mean, if she's anything like Amy, I have an idea."

"No, nothing like Amy. She's uh... just an ex."

"One that apparently things didn't go well with?"

He shifts again, licking his lips. "We were good, but some things shouldn't last. It'd be suicide to stay."

Veronica gives a slow nod. She looks around the room again, resting her gaze on the back window where pinks and oranges blend against the evening sky. Cars honking, people shouting and laughing, and the occasional siren pierces the silence from below. Buildings press against the horizon, almost like a picture, some illuminated inside and others plain, dull grey. Breeze floods into the room. The last bit of daylight nips at the shadows, the room darkening and growing brighter again with the motions of the clouds.

"It's pretty." She turns back to JD. "It's what I used to want: the city, prestigious college... and now that I have it, I feel like I'm suffocating."

"The kids all rich big-shots?"

She shrugs. "Some of them. That's why I liked Peggy... even though she has money, I thought she was different." Sadness floods her face, her lips pressing together to hide a tired frown.

He furrows a brow, thinking over what she just said. The memory of Peggy and Veronica asking questions pops up at her name. "Wait, what happened with...?"

"We had a fight," Veronica answers, keeping her voice monotone. "The past is a bitch, especially when it's complicated."

"How come you didn't want her to know?" He asks softly. Light causes a gold shine against their eyes, a veil of shimmer over their faces and laced into their hair.

"I don't want her to look at me differently like I'm that terrified little girl walking out of the hospital. I don't want to change things, and I can't trust her." She sits forward, bringing one leg from under her. "It's like I have rules now, after the crash. I can't trust people anymore."

"You think that it's going to happen again, I know."

"I don't have a reason to trust people. I apparently trusted friends, look at how that turned out. I'm alone. I trusted you, you left, and I trusted my parents, who lied to me. So yeah, I have a few defense walls up, okay?" By now, she's almost forgotten about her paranoia, but the thought of leaving brings back the looming fear. "Sorry," she chokes out, pressure back in her chest.

JD shakes his head. "Don't be. It's true, isn't it?" They sit in thoughtful silence for a minute.

"Did they give you PTSD meds after, too?"

"Yup."

Veronica bites her lip so hard she tastes sweet copper- blood. "Did you take them?"

"Nope."

"Me either. It's like... they know that we're broken. We know that we're broken. But they try to convince us that if we take a pill, it will glue us back together." She scoffs, laughing. "As if we don't know that when we stop, we'll fall apart again when we're supposed to know by then how to keep ourselves together. But some people can't be fixed, not with a pill, not with time!"

"You're not broken, Veronica."

She brings her knees to her chest. "Then what am I?"

***

Veronica finds herself wrapped up in a blanket, half-asleep with her head on his shoulder. Staying tests everything: her own rules, her professionalism. Secretly procrastinating her departure, she closes her eyes and lets herself drift. It's been a long time since she's been this close to somebody.

Fear works as fuel to keep you running, to keep you on guard, and to keep you safe. It isn't always the enemy but your sidekick. Veronica finds herself unable to shake the anxious feeling twisting her stomach, tempted to pace around despite exhaustion beginning to set in the more comfortable she gets. Something nags at her, nipping at her tranquility that refuses to rest. Maybe it's stress.

Or it's a warning.

"Okay, this is pointless." She throws the blanket off with a frustrated sigh. "I need to move."

"You okay?"

"I don't know," she mumbles, rubbing her temple and pacing in front of the window. "Something feels off." The sky went dark a while ago, stars glimmering, the moon three-quarters full and seeming to laugh at her insomnia-ridden mind. She rests her head against the cold glass.

"Ronnie, someone's calling you."

She turns back around and walks over to the couch. "This late? Who the hell..." Ms. Winters flashes on her screen. "Hello?" The call lasts a mere minute and twenty seconds. Ending it, Veronica groans and slips her shoes on.

"Everyone in the clinic has to meet up at the college. She won't say what about." Another groan escapes her lips, followed by a string of curse words as she grabs her jacket.

"Are you sure you need clients to worry about on top of everything else?" JD asks from the kitchen, leaning against the counter.

Veronica walks over to the door. "I need to help people, JD. I can't fix my own life, I can't fix yours, but I may be able to fix someone else's. I hope this isn't about something stupid."

Night air hits her like a truck. It slices through her layers, every drop of warmth disintegrating. By the time she arrives, unaware that she'll leave even colder, her hands have gone numb. Ms. Winters stands against the chalkboard, clinic members forming a half-circle around her. Caroline enters a minute after Veronica, long blonde hair flying behind her.

"What are we doing here?" She whispers. Veronica shakes her head, bewildered.

Peggy stands the closest to Ms. Winters, the smirk on her face proving her knowledge of what the rest of them don't yet know. Her makeup is perfect despite the time, and shirt is unwrinkled behind her arms, which remain folded in front of her chest. Veronica purses her lips and stares at the floor.

Peggy smiles at her once. It isn't the nice kind of smile.

***

"This is a mess." Veronica hurries down the street, overflowing with anger and panic. Nerves make her wonder if she'll have to lean over and puke. "S-she did the interview with the Chandlers without me. They have new evidence. God, this is a mess!"

"They have new evidence of it being a suicide?"

She holds the phone tighter. "Opposite."

"Dammit."

"But... that isn't it." Her throat closes up, breathing irregular and ragged. "JD, I think I'm screwed."

His voice matches her nerves. "What happened?"

"They're going to reopen the Chandler case."


	9. Suspicion

NEXT DAY

"No, I'm not going to calm down! I'm about to go to jail for the rest of my life-"

"You're not going to jail."

"You don't know that!" Veronica groans, running her fingers through her hair as she rocks back and forth. She and JD sit in her dorm, discussing (arguing) about the case. "And I don't get what I did to Peggy. She completely turned on me because of one argument. God, she's acting like we're in middle school." Tears threaten to spill, frustration, and stress not know how else to escape her.

A knock on the door interrupts them. JD opens it as Veronica wipes her eyes, leaning forward. Caroline stands at the door, books hugged to her chest, her thin, pink lips turned up in a grin.

"Hey! I figured we should study, we'll be getting our first case for the clinic soon. And we still have-"

"I know what we have to do!"

Caroline blinks and shifts her books in her arms, biting her lip. "Sorry, did I...?"

"She's a little stressed right now," JD comments, bringing her eyes from Veronica to him. Faint freckles lay over her nose and cheeks, thick strawberry blonde hair in a low ponytail that rests on her shoulder.

"Oh. Are you her boyfriend?"

Veronica looks up. "He's my friend. JD, this is Caroline, she's in the clinic with me. Caroline, this is my friend JD, from high school."

"Hi." They shake hands, the smile returning to her face. Veronica notices her light pink nails, a cherry painted over the pink on her ring finger. Two gold bracelets jingle from her right arm. A colorful woven one wraps around her left wrist. The ends of the small pink bow holding her hair in the ponytail falls into her locks, intertwining with strands of gold with a rose tint. The first thing Veronica thinks is that she dyed it but then decides that it's as natural as the rest of her.

The girl doesn't wear a drop of makeup. Her skin looks softer than a baby's, acne-free with a rosy tint to her cheeks when she smiles. Her earrings are simple diamond studs.

She flops down on the bed after JD leaves, propping her head upon her hand. "So. They're trying to reopen the case, how crazy is that?"

"I know, they must have found something big. She just made my job a whole lot harder," Veronica mumbles.

"Peggy?" Caroline tilts her head as Veronica winces. Her stomach sinks, a lump in her throat. Are she and Peggy already so far apart that it doesn't matter if she talks about her? "Something seems off about her." The unexpected words cause her to blink and look up at her.

"What?"

Caroline shrugs. "Don't tell anyone, but she just seems weird. She barely talks to other people, and when she looks at me I just want to melt down and die."

Veronica laughs, secretly thinking about what makeup would enhance her features. Some lip gloss, mascara, and maybe some eyeliner...

"... okay, so tomorrow we'll find out what exactly she found out. Then we have to decide how to go against that- so, what have you done so far? Why do you think it was suicide? I mean, obviously because of the angle-"

"Uh-" She snaps back into the moment to see Caroline talking a mile a minute. "Yeah, I agree."

"You're not listening," Caroline laughs, giving her a playful nudge. "I'm just that beautiful, huh?"

"Wha- No- I mean you are but-"

She laughs again, a soft and smooth giggle. "I'm kidding." Her face falls more serious. "Are you okay?"

"Fine, I just... uh, like JD said, I'm stressed. The case, the clinic, Peggy."

"Well, maybe we should do something that isn't school," she suggests.

Veronica raises a brow. "Like? Shouldn't we be studying? Or preparing for the clinic or exams-"

Caroline hops up from the bed, her light blue shirt tucked into her jeans, held up by a black diamond-studded belt. DELIGHTFULLY SARCASTIC is written in bubble letters across her chest. The cuffs of her jeans are rolled up less than an inch above her black boots.

"Come on, let's go to the mall or something. We deserve it, and this might be the last chance to do something fun. After this, it's all murder cases and all-nighters and courtrooms." She puts a hand on her hip as Veronica stands and grabs her bag. "We can get lunch, too, I'll pay."

She grabs Veronica's hand and drags her out of the dorm, hair flying behind her as they run downstairs and down the hall. "We're stopping at my room first."

When they arrive, both grinning and breathless, Caroline tumbles into the room and grabs a black cross-body purse along with a box of cigarettes. Veronica can't remember the first time she ran for fun or the last time she had someone to laugh with. The cigarettes come as a surprise, seeming out of character for Caroline. But who even is she? Impossible to classify or label, she decides.

Maybe that's the point.

"Alright- Yes, I know, I'm dying my lungs black. I don't need a lecture. Let's bounce." She rips the bow out of her hair, letting it fall down almost to her mid-back. They leave the college and walk down the street, where Caroline lights the respiratory-killer.

"So, a friend from high school. Details?"

"What?"

She sends her a glance too similar to Peggy's accusing ones. "Is there anything you aren't mentioning?"

"No. God, Peggy did that too. Am I the only one that can be in the same room as their ex or something?"

"Ah-ha! I knew I sensed something." She throws Veronica another look, but this time accompanied by a smile. "What happened?"

"Nothing worth talking about."

"Okay, okay. But if you ever want some help..."

"Help what? Getting back together? That isn't happening."

Caroline sighs, exhaling smoke. "You sound strangely sad about that. But, I'll let it go." She pulls sunglasses out of her bag, sliding them on with the cigarette in between her pointer and middle finger.

Relief floods the brunette. "Thank you." They walk past a small coffee shop, a park to the right. The shouts and laughs of children drift from the playground, people talking with cell phones pressed to their ears and others looking silly in suits or formal skirts. The fascination of the fast-pace washes over Veronica.

Caroline pulls her into a shop so quickly that she doesn't get a chance to see the name of it. A sea of patters and color lay in front of her, as she's surrounded by clothing and jewelry with a pop song blasting from an unseen speaker. The store smells of leather and cheap perfume.

It all reeks of money.

"Let's try stuff on. We need party outfits, though I doubt Ms. Winters will give us much time for partying." Arms already full of fabric, Caroline drags her to the dressing rooms. "These look your size." She pushes her into a stall and then disappears back into the isles of clothing.

Veronica strips down and stares at herself, one of the dresses in her hand. Her body- her deepest insecurity after the crash- never seemed to go back together. She remembers getting home and wondering how she lived with herself before, crying and yanking at her hair as if that would make her thinner or give her clear skin. Her body was still pale, dark bags under her eyes. That part hasn't changed.

Was I always this fat? Ugly? Disgusting? How on Earth did I have a boyfriend?

It leads to the same spiral every time. Maybe if she weren't so sick looking, broken, or stupid he wouldn't have left. The next few weeks were spent in the hurricane of doubt. The photos proved he loved her, so why did he leave?

She shakes herself from her thoughts and slips the dress that Caroline picked out on. It falls almost to her knees, blue fabric swirling around her legs. The straps are less than an inch wide, leading down to a v-neck that dips further down than she's used to. She twirls once, heat in her cheeks. It reveals enough to send a wave of self-consciousness over her.

Someone knocks on the door, and Caroline enters with another armful of clothes. "I'll take that smile as a sign you like it."

"It's..."

She grins and sets the pile of clothes on the small seat in the corner of the stall.

"We're going to be here for hours!" Veronica exclaims as if she didn't want to stay.

"Not if you stop staring at yourself and try on something else."

***

"I don't need-"

"Trust me, you do."

Caroline pays and leads Veronica out of the store. She rubs her temples, a headache blossoming from the toxic perfumes. She made Veronica get the dress, a shirt, a skirt she'd normally never wear, and a bikini, another thing she'd normally never wear. Somehow, Caroline convinced her.

She brings her into a makeup shop next, surprising considering her lack of wearing it herself. As she looks over the racks of products, Veronica stands there with her arms crossed, a smirk tugging at her lips. The second she turns to face her, she's being patted with brushes and rubbed with something that feels like lotion.

"Stay still." Veronica tucks an eye pencil behind her ear and then uncaps lipstick.

"Why- Eww-"

Employees throw them dirty looks but regret it when they throw half the products in the store into the pink and red striped bags. Veronica doesn't remember where she learned how to do makeup, but her brain managed to recall how to put it on, despite the eyeliner being crooked and her blending not being the best. She was right about Caroline but finds herself preferring her bare, freckled skin to sparkly eyes and shimmery cheeks.

It turns out she covers up her freckles with foundation and concealer for parties. She hates them. Veronica thinks they look like constellations but keeps that to herself.

They decide to stop at a cafe before heading back, a small, out of the way eat-in with french doors and fake plants on the window sill. Lana, an already exhausted young woman with tattoos covering her arms, seats them near the right corner of the cafe at a table next to one of the many windows. The partially-open shutters reveal by-passers rushing to work or school.

"So, adulthood, huh?"

Caroline laughs and sips her milkshake. "As my mom would say, "If you're hungry, in debt, and exhausted, you're an adult. If you think people are going to help you, you're a fool."

"Imagine your mom actually talking to you," Veronica replies. "Can't relate."

"Me either. Dead people aren't very talkative."

Her head snaps up. "Oh. Sorry-"

Caroline waves it off, shrugging. "I was ten. My stepmom's cool. I'm supposed to go to their house for Christmas." She shoots her a genuine smile. "You should come. Anyways, as messed up as it sounds, my mom dying is how they got a lot of their money. I used to hate that fact, like we were buying furniture with her ashes."

A new, terrifying idea pops into Veronica's mind. It would be testing the waters, skydiving without a parachute. With someone already leaving notes about the amnesia, would it be risky to tell her?

Here goes nothing.

"Uh, I was in a car crash in the senior year. So close to graduating, I'd turned eighteen... anyways, uh, I was diagnosed with retrograde amnesia after. I could remember a few people, big events, but... nothing else. I still can't remember most of it." She receives a stare. Not an accusing or disgusted one, but piercing eyes covered in a layer of curiosity. Holding a bit more courage than before, she decides to continue.

"It's why I waited so long to go to law school. Recovery, emotionally and physically, the medical bills, finishing high school work. It felt like only days but it was years. And I didn't even do anything, I just laid in bed and slept." She lets out a small laugh with an undertone of nerves. 

"Jesus. Are you okay now?"

The question takes her by surprise. "What? I mean, I'm still on meds, and the nightmares never stopped, but I'm getting myself together. I can't tell if seeing JD again is helping or hurting me."

Caroline nods, biting her lip and leaning back, legs crossed and arms folded. "Again?"

"We dated in high school. He was in the crash with me, and then... gone. It turns out my parents thought he was the reason I crashed and made him leave."

"So, you woke up and didn't remember anything, like a movie?"

"Yeah, except I knew it was real. They told me he was gone, and that was it." Veronica takes a sip of her own milkshake and pops a fry in her mouth, wiping grease off her fingers with a napkin.

"But... didn't you have his number or something? Couldn't you guys meet up somehow in secret?"

She thinks for a long moment. "I don't know, I didn't have his number, though. You're right, it's weird. It's like my parents didn't want me to remember him at all."

"Do you want to remember?"

"Yes."

"Then talk to him. Or your parents, but it sounds like they won't tell you much."

Her suggestion earns a nod. "Thanks. Maybe I will."

***

When the girls arrive back at the school, they go up to Veronica's room to study. She finds herself excited than before, maybe more comfortable.

"Your room's cool," Caroline comments, flopping down on the bed. Veronica walks over to her desk and begins going through a pile of books, papers, and folders.

"What the hell..."

"Hmm?"

She turns around, brow furrowed, and suspicion of one particular person growing in her mind. "My notes for the Chandler case and the interview. It's all gone."


	10. We're Screwed

TW: Mentions of suicide/Murder, mental health,

" I'll be your light, your match, your burning sun"

"I expect you all to have a way to prove Mr. Arelic is innocent by tomorrow. Court is coming up fast, and this is a man who will be behind bars for the rest of his life if we can't win this. We're his last hope."

The students rise from their seats, beginning to file out of the room. Veronica takes her phone out as Caroline runs up to her.

"Hey!"

"Hey, where's Peggy?"

Her face twists in confusion. "I dunno. Why?"

"I need to talk to her," Veronica answers bitterly. 

Caroline raises a brow. "You think she did it, don't you?" Her hair isn't in a ponytail today, but down with two purple clips on the left side.

"Of course I do. She- Peggy!" Veronica waves her over, picking up her pace and walking over to the right side of the hall. Peggy stands against the wall, talking to a group of 1 and 2Ls. They all turn their attention and eyes to Veronica as she approaches.

"Did you take them?" She demands. Caroline looks from her to the group.

Peggy scoffs. "Excuse me? Take what?"

"My notes for the Chandler case."

She continues to stare Veronica down, the three students around her exchanging glances and shifting, trying not to look at them or get involved. "No, I didn't take anything."

Veronica rips her bag off of her arm, the flap opening and contents spilling to the floor. Veronica's notes right in front of her feet. She drops the bag with a smirk and picks up her notebook. Peggy's face changes from challenging to horrified, a cocky type of offense turning the corners of her mouth down as her eyes go wide. The rest of the group- a boy and two girls- look away, struggling not to laugh, comment or smile.

"What is this, middle school?" She mumbles while stuffing the notebook into her own bag as they walk away. Caroline grins, linking arms with her.

"My dorm?"

"Sure."

They arrive at her dorm, but she puts a hand on Veronica's arm and tells her to stay there while she grabs a few more books. "Actually, let's go outside. It's nice for once."

Veronica knows that she just wants to smoke but nods anyway. She leans against the door and peeks into Caroline's room.

Posters cover one wall, most of them being of movies or bands, and the bookshelf next to her bed has every classic she could name. The furniture, a variety of colors, ranges from scratched up cherry to modern dark oak. She has a vintage library desk lamp over a stack of small notebooks and mason jar filled with pens on her desk. A bedside table holds a messy pile of CDs and notepad. Clothes are strewn over the end of the bed, shoes in an even messier mountain on the wall behind the door.

She steps inside as Caroline grabs a bookbag and box of cigarettes that were buried in a desk drawer.

"Come on, hopefully, the lawn isn't full."

Outside, students lay sprawl out on the grass. The sky has remained clear throughout the morning, cloudless and carrying a breeze strong enough to blow your hair around your face but not so intense that it will blow your notes away. Most of the people have earbuds in or are chatting with friends, textbooks in front of them. Caroline and Veronica pick a spot near the steps of the school and sit down under a tree.

"So, Michael Arlelic was accused of killing his wife by pushing her off the balcony of a hotel room at The Red Dolphin. Rita Arlelic was found dead on the concrete after a witness called 911. She was already dead, and the witness claims that she saw a figure behind her when she plummeted from the balcony. But, Michael claims that he was gone picking them up Chinese food at the time, and didn't return to the hotel until the police had arrived."

"Do they have a witness of his return?"

"Yes, I woman who saw him walking in the hotel. There is also a neighbor who is going against the accusation, claiming she is Rita's therapist and their marriage was not doing well."

Caroline holds up a finger. "But, there's the confidentiality rule, so how can she-"

"But, she is testifying based on what she has heard from her house. They fought at night, and she called the police twice when hearing things break or thinking she heard cries in pain. No charges were pressed either time. She also claims that Rita went to her multiple times not as a client but as a friend, talking about mental health issues." The papers rustle as Veronica turns the page.

"So, we need to find out exactly what she was diagnosed with, then we could use that to support why she would jump, which is what the neighbor thinks. I think it's in here somewhere..."

"The witness who claims there was someone behind her when she fell from the balcony... Hey, could I see your Chandler notes?"

Veronica tilts her head in confusion but hands them over. She watches her face fall before a grin spreads across it. She sets the notes down and looks at Veronica, smirking. 

"The city that the hotel is located in is a tourist attraction, for bars and cocktails in particular. What's your lead in the Chandler case?" She continues to grin as if she knows something, an answer that should be easy to guess.

"That she was under the influence. What are you suggesting?" 

"Well, what if the witness wasn't sober when seeing this "figure" push Rita?"

Veronica starts to smile.

***

"I'd like to call Jennifer Larkin to the stand."

Veronica and Caroline exchange nervous glances as Ms. Winters stands up and watches a thirty-something-year-old woman walk to the stand, red hair obviously dyed, dirty-blonde roots visible. Several tattoos can be seen on her arms.

Winters runs through the story, what happened and what they know so far. She approaches Jennifer with her hands folded in front of her, her face expressionless.

"Ms. Larkin, can you explain what you were doing on the night of Rita Arlelic's death?"

"Uh, I was shopping. And then I went to dinner with a few friends, and I was about to walk into the hotel when... she fell from the balcony of one of the higher stories."

Winters nods and paces in front of the stand, though not out of nerves. No, her face remains stone-cold and cocky. "Did you see Rita standing there before falling to the ground? Or only her falling?"

"I saw someone push her." 

"And were you under the influence of drugs or alcohol at the time?"

"I-" She opens her mouth before closing it again. Caroline and Veronica exchange another look.

"You're under oath, Ms. Larkin," Winters reminds her. Jennifer sighs, scanning the room in search of familiar faces.

"I had some wine at the restaurant," she finally confesses. 

"How much?"

"Just two glasses."

Murmurs fill the room before dying down again. Winters folds her arms in front of her, black heels clicking against the floor as she paces. "Ms. Larkin, is there any chance you did not see someone push Rita Arlelic off of the tenth story balcony?"

Veronica chews her lip, shifting in anticipation. Caroline squeezes her hand, eyes set straight ahead and chest suddenly blanketed with weight and heavy with pressure.

"I don't remember."

"Is there any possibility that you were seeing a false second figure?"

"Objection! asked and answered."

"Sustained."

"Does being under the influence of alcohol ever cause you to see things that aren't there, Ms. Larkin?" Winters rephrases.

"Sometimes, yes."

Winters nods and walks over to the counsel table. "No further questions." 

***

"Did you ever hear yelling coming from the Arleic's household at night."

"Yes," she answers. "I would hear fighting, yelling."

"Did you ever feel the need to notify the police about these fights?" Winters asks.

Carla nods. "Twice."

"Mrs. Dawson, who did you hear yelling, Rita or her husband?"

"Objection, relevance!"

The judge looks from Winters to Carla. "Overruled. Mrs. Dawson, you may answer the question."

Carla licks her lips, hands folded in her lap, body stiff and eyes wide. She almost looks on the verge of tears. "It was usually Rita shouting. There would be moments of silence, and then low talking that was always Michael. Rita would always be crying when she came over after, always seemed on the verge of a mental breakdown."

"Being her friend and neighbor, did she ever come to you with suicidal thoughts?"

The question causes Carla to pause. "Sometimes."

"Did you ever feel the need to inform authorities because of this?"

She pauses again, swallowing and meeting eyes with the defendant. Michael has tattoos on the side of his neck and light blue button-up on, eyes pleading, confused, and hopeful. "Yes. When her husband was away on business once, she was submitted to the hospital. She stayed there for four days. She begged me not to tell him."

Veronica suddenly realizes what is being said between their eyes. It's a silent apology. Michael stares at his lap, seeming to pray or whisper something to himself.

"No further questions." Winters smirks as she walks away, eyeing the opposing attorney. They send a glare back.

***

"Alright, so we won-"

"I won. You'll get your next assignment tomorrow." The second Winters walks away, Veronica and Caroline go back to celebrating while they leave the court.

"I already know what she's going to say tomorrow: "It won't always be this easy." Hey, so, for the Chandler case, what exactly was the new evidence Peggy found?"

Caroline shrugs and stuffs her hands in her pockets. "I dunno. We can ask tomorrow."

"Unless she acts on it tomorrow. I'll be right back." Veronica runs to catch up to her teacher, who's halfway down the steps by the time she does. "Hey, what did Peg- I mean... someone find for the Chandler case? It has to be big evidence if we're actually considering trying to make them reopen it."

"We shouldn't be talking about this here."

"Why not? It's an assignment."

She purses her lips and glances around. When Veronica runs back to Caroline, the color has left her face and she's typing rapidly.

"So?"

"Apparently, they had a video camera in the Chandler's living room, but the footage from the night of her death is gone. It can't be a coincidence, and they suspect that the footage was downloaded onto something and taken, or erased completely."

The text she sends to JD is different.

\- We're screwed. Again.


	11. Something We Shouldn't

ONE WEEK LATER

"What is it with you and this case?"

"Nothing, I just... it's money and a good grade, who wouldn't want that?"

Caroline taps her foot and rests a hand on her hip. "Are you sure that's it? Ever since you learned about the evidence, you've been freaking out."

"I'm not freaking out!" Veronica rakes her fingers through her hair. In truth, she is freaking out. If they find that footage, she and JD go to jail. If this blackmailer decides to snitch, they go to jail. Her future is beginning to skid off the road due to the past creating slippery ice she thought she could ignore. One wrong move will send them both behind bars.

"Sure. Want to have a girls' night while we study the new case?"

She sighs and purses her lips. They've spent the last week learning about cases, techniques, and methods. Sure enough, Ms. Winters gave them the "it won't always be this easy" speech that Veronica had predicted. Between studying for LSATs and trying to keep up with the clinic, her stress is at its max.

"Maybe. I have to finish a law review and read those example papers." Something tells her that there won't be any more fancy cafes and dress shopping from here.

"Okay, calm down. I'll go to buy ice cream." Caroline rolls off the bed and grabs her keys from Veronica's desk before walking out, leaving her to her thoughts and giant to-do list.

JD never replied to her text- or the five that followed when she was alone and impatient. She didn't realize how much she misses him until then. Now, with nothing else to do, she punches in a number that's for some reason memorized and under at her fingertips, waiting for her to need it. It rings twice before someone answers.

"Hey, I'm-"

"Who the hell is this?" The voice that comes through is female and pissed. Did she have the wrong number?

"Uh, Veronica, who is this?"

She doesn't receive an answer. Instead, shouts can be heard, loud arguing before the sound of something falling-or something being thrown. JD and this mystery girl continue to scream at each other, but Veronica can make out certain words. ...high school, mystery past, side-bitch. There's a type of anger in his voice that she hadn't heard before, frustrated curses and an undertone of pain. The girl's high-pitched and snippy voice reveals that she doesn't go easy with the insults, but sniffles and sobs echo with fear. After another minute, the line goes dead.

Veronica stares at her phone with questions swarming in her mind. Who was that girl? Another girlfriend? She debates what to do before a text pops up.

\- sorry. don't come over right now

Something runs through her, apprehension causing her muscles to tense. Her instincts scream for her to do something but the text leaves her frozen. She forces her fingers to move and types a simple everything okay? which doesn't get a response.

***

The sky begins to turn dark as Caroline and Veronica stuff their mouths with candy and ice cream while finishing homework and watching old movies. The nagging worry never leaves Veronica, nor does it lessen. Her phone buzzes a while later.

\- kind of. Sorry for not getting back to you about the case, you're right about the video. But I didn't do anything with the footage, I didn't even know they had cameras.

\- that's not good. we shouldn't be talking about this over text

She hops up from the bed as the phone rings, Caroline eyeing her, confused. The closest lounge is luckily empty.

"What happened?" She asks, curling up on one of the chairs and looking around. A lamp sits on a small table next to another chair, a table in the middle of it all. The rug looks handmade- most likely by a student. I remember when I had time for hobbies, she thinks.

"Nothing, still up with homework?" His voice, hoarse from arguing, she notices is quieter than usual, though that may have to do with the time. But she senses something else. The anger that exploded earlier has left exhaustion with no residue of itself.

"That too." Veronica swallows with a sudden craving for fresh air. "Are you okay?"

"Veronica, look, it was just a fight," he insists.

"Then why do you sound depressed?"

"That's- you don't need to worry about this. I'm serious."

"Too late," she retorts. "And that text, what was that about? I think something's going on that you're not telling me."

There's a sigh that gives her hope. "I didn't want you in the middle of it. She gets mad about everything and somehow it's always because of something I never told her or somebody else."

"What was this fight about?"

"What was it not about?" He pauses before sighing again, debating how much to tell her and knowing she won't let the topic rest until he gives answers. Her stubbornness from high school shines through, and it isn't going away any time soon. "She didn't know if she still wanted me around her kid because I relapsed last night and now-"

"She has a kid? Wait, what?" Veronica loses her battle for words. The words leave a weight on her chest that throws her breathing off, stealing the color from her face.

"Yeah. And apparently, that makes me a threat to her, and you know how girls get when they track down another female name in your contacts."

"I'm sorry. I would have-"

"Stop. She has issues and doesn't want to admit it, so she gets on me about mine. How'd the case go?"

"We won. And I know what you're doing," she says, studying her nails before standing. "Are you... is it okay if I come over now?" Her heartbeat has sped up to a dangerous rate.

He gives a small, tired laugh despite sounding wide awake. "You need to sleep, Veronica. Don't you have class tomorrow?"

"What, do you have my schedule memorized? Yes, I only have one class and the clinic, though. I'm going to be tired anyway. It's just a matter of what I'm tired from, and if not from that, I'd be tired from studying. Either way-"

"Okay, I get it."

Veronica bites her lip, grinning. "So?"

"I know you think you can fix things, but you can't."

"You don't know me," she says smoothly.

"I know that you're smiling right now."

She opens her mouth to speak but laughs instead. "And how would you know that?"

"Your voice is higher when you're smiling," he says, causing her to roll her eyes. "The door's unlocked."

***

When Veronica enters her dorm, Caroline sits up and throws her a curious look. "Late night date? You seemed like you were waiting for a call."

"No. It's not a date." She begins rummaging through the closet, pulling shirts off the hangers. "Something happened, we're just going to hang out and talk." She switches her tank top out for a long-sleeve shirt and skirt with tights, slipping on converse despite Caroline giving her a guilt trip about it clashing. The light in the bathroom proves to not be the best for trying to match and blend colors as she sits on the counter and holds different colors up to her lips.

"Seriously, I don't think-"

"Are you sure this looks okay?"

Caroline rolls her eyes, smirking with her arms folded over her chest. "You look fine. It's dark and you're the one who keeps saying this isn't a date."

"It's not. Dates are planned. This wasn't planned," she insists. "I'll be back in a bit."

Veronica decides to walk, enjoying the crisp night air without a breeze strong enough to make her shiver. At least, she doesn't start shivering until she's halfway there. She quickens her pace for the next few blocks.

When she finds herself standing outside the door, a surge of anxiety twists her stomach in knots, but it's replaced with something darker when she steps inside the dimly-lit apartment.

"Hey-Oh my god-"

The energy in the room brings her shoulders down and throws the urge to cry at her like a brick. The sudden melancholy is accompanied by concern when she sees the bruise on JD's cheek and broken glass on the counter next to a form with a hospital logo in the corner of the page.

"Sorry about the mess-"

"Mess? I don't care about the mess, what happened? I walk in here and suddenly I want to curl up and die."

"Yeah, you're not the only one. It's impossible to keep an argument in one room with Jess."

Veronica looks around and walks into the living room. The curtains are pulled to the side and hanging off two narrow strips of fabric, the glass table cracked and several books and papers on the couch. Blankets lay in heaps on the floor, opened- and some empty- bottles of alcohol on top of the microwave. Pillows have been thrown into a pile against the bookcase.

"I...does it hurt?" She asks, turning back to JD and running her finger over the bruise. She can tell he was crying earlier from red-rimmed eyes that don't meet hers.

"Not anymore." He gently removes her hand after a moment. "I told you, you don't need to worry about it."

It earns a scoff. "I know I don't need to, but I do. And you know, maybe talking about it without changing the subject after two sentences will make me worry less. Just a guess."

JD runs his fingers through his hair with pursed lips. Veronica raises a brow patiently before looking at the books on the couch, picking up what looks like a photo album.

"So you did keep the photos," she mumbles under her breath while flipping through the pages. It's unclear if they're making her heart swell up or break in half. She and JD's smiling, teenage faces disappear as she closes it, their love out of view just as it is in real life.

"Yeah..."

"Let's get out of here," she says, standing. The subject change gives her time to clear the lump from her throat and blink the gleam of grief from her eyes. The faint smell of perfume has begun to deprive her of air, the mess causing the room to feel ten times tighter. They walk downstairs in silence, the cold washing over them instead of hitting them. Veronica lets the chill fill her lungs with fresh air, alleviating the feeling of suffocation from minutes ago.

Despite the time, the city remains awake. A seemingly incessant number of cars fly past, light from the buildings reflecting on the hoods and colored metal. Some people walk in groups or with animals. A train sounds somewhere in the distance.

"I'm not going to make you talk, but-"

"Yes, you are."

She shoots him a glance. "Okay, then."

He nudges her with a chuckle, but his voice is pained. "What do you want me to say, Veronica? I had a fight with my ex-girlfriend, one that you weren't supposed to hear, and one that I don't want you to be involved in."

"If I was the cause, aren't I already involved, just not to my face?"

"You weren't the cause. We didn't see our differences at first, and it blew up in our faces."

"Was she there when you...?"

He immediately knows where this is going. Another inch of vulnerability peeks through the more he talks about it. Veronica hasn't given him the usual blank look that twists into a frightened and pitiful one. It's weird to have someone asking about it that isn't a therapist, someone gently prying for answers because they care and not because it's their job. He doesn't yet regret telling her, but wonders if he will by the end of the night.

"Yeah, she knew something was up, then she found the blades and started yelling about it before leaving."

Veronica sucks in a breath. "Why would she leave? That's stupid, you-" She stops herself before it turns to a rant, sneaking a glance at him before looking back at the sidewalk.

"She said she was stressed and went to get a drink with her friends, but I know she didn't know what to do."

"How long had you guys been together?"

His laugh surprises her. "A bit over a week. We've been friends for a while, we dated off and on... after."

"Don't look at me like that," Veronica says abruptly. "I don't care if you were dating other people after the crash. That was the least of my concerns."

"Never said you did."

"You were thinking about it. But I won't lie, I did think about that sometimes. It killed me, but I did. We're getting off-topic." She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, something he recognizes as a nervous habit and what she doesn't give a second thought about. A lot of her high school self shines through, but her inability to compare herself to that girl forms a veil of oblivion.

"She left and didn't come back until the next morning. She thinks I'm stupid, but I know about the other guys-"

"Are you serious?" Veronica asks with a short laugh. "Can this girl get any worse?" The jealousy that she would never admit had blossomed in her days ago has withered. It's replaced with a useless I could do better.

"She found the note and kept then started yelling again- she was still wasted- and threatening to call the hospital-"

"Wait." She whips her head around, mouth partway-open. They've come to a halt near a park, and she pulls him onto a bench next to her. The street they're on is almost empty, a few stray walkers passing every few minutes, but a blanket of quiet and stillness surrounding when they aren't in view.

"What?"

"You wrote a note?" Her voice is barely a whisper. Something new has entered her eyes, deeper than concern. Her face almost looks scrunched up in pain, but in reality, she's grasping for answers. Did the compunction get to be too much? The guilt trips from Jess on top of it?

"I swear, it was just in case."

"Just in case- No! God, I..."

He rests a hand on top of hers, the touch making her look up in surprise. "You can't fix everything, remember that."

Her eyes water but she blinks her tears back. "Why?"

"I was tipsy and sick of her guilt trips, you know some nights are just... bad. It was an instant, stupid thing." Her grip on his hand tightens. "Look, I'm fine. And she's gone."

"Did she? Call?" Veronica manages, the fear beginning to recede.

"No, I convinced her not to, but it's back to therapy," he says with fake enthusiasm before going serious again. "I didn't want you in this, it isn't-"

"Stop. Just... I'm here, okay? I get if you don't want to let me in, but I'm here." She pauses as their eyes meet, suddenly breathless. It's too close that they sit and too comfortable that both of them are. Veronica finds herself at total ease, which is dangerous when you can't let yourself build an attachment.

Her heartbeat speeds up as she realizes it may be too late.

"I know. Thanks, Ronnie."

She brightens, the nickname an allay to her worry. She knows the codes, when the doors are open, and when she won't get what she's looking for. Proving itself to be a puzzle, each thing she recognizes comes as another part solved. The satisfaction of knowing someone or something while in a sea of instability and mistrust almost throws her into bliss. For a moment, she considers that maybe she isn't broken. Even if she is, maybe she can put herself back together.

And maybe she won't have to do it alone.

They've spoken too softly about things deeper than they should have. They've trapped themselves in this.

"Can I ask you something?" She pierces the silence but it might as well have remained since her voice doesn't exceed a whisper. He nods, and she hesitates before spitting out what has tugged at her mind since the crash, every day during the agonizing months before this while she laid in bed and hated herself. "Did you ever think about me?"

"Every day," he replies, not giving her the reaction she expected while sneaking a glance.

"Oh. I figured you didn't want to."

"Why?"

"Didn't it hurt?" She asks with a small laugh, teary-eyed once again.

"It hurt like hell. Every part of it. But, if the only place I got to see you was in my mind, I'd take what I could get."

She looks down to see that their hands are still together. Flustered but keeping that in the storage center of denied emotions, she opens her mouth to speak but closes it again, a wave of emotions she can't pinpoint sending the air out of her again and leaving her thoughts muffled. A few remain clear.

Most of them scare her.

"I thought I was in denial, but part of me kept telling me that you didn't leave. That you wouldn't. But, of course, I didn't have any evidence of that. Except for the photos." Drops of warm water splash onto her cheeks, and she goes to wipe them away only for more to fall. Confused, she looks at the sidewalk, which now is covered in dark spots from where the raindrops hit. They look away from the sidewalk and back at each other. "I'm glad we found each other again."

Her fingers curl around the hem of her skirt, anticipation blossoming. But for what? Nerves, she concludes. Not anticipation, but knowing that she's vulnerable, the door to her secrets and past wide open. Something about touching-even if only their hands brush-pulls her mind apart at the seams and turn her to nothing but an infinite ocean of words waiting for somebody to listen. Her thoughts begin to come across as lyrics or poems instead of just prose- other than the questions.

What would he do if I kissed him right now?

"When you showed up at the door, part of me thought I was dreaming, literally."

Veronica giggles as more raindrops pelt her cheeks. Lost for a remark, she replies with a simple "nope" and stands. As their hands break apart, a jolt of longing sends her dazed. It took more effort than either of them would like to admit to let go of each other. They start walking back at a slow pace. Veronica remains in a dangerous trance, a state of euphoria that sends her thoughts running loose and jumbles up her wants and rules.

Every time their hands' brush it sends her throbbing with a type of desire, something deep and new. As much as she wants to push it aside, the longing pulses under her fingertips. She's warm with it, overwhelmed from the tornado of thoughts containing emotions she's heard of but never felt. How dangerous would it be to give in? To let herself trust somebody?

Both of them struggle to keep from looking at each other, thoughts and heartbeats racing. Raindrops in their hair and lashes, goosebumps on every inch of exposed skin, and a sudden craving to hold each other, kiss each other, that was bound to explode. The tarnished past has proven to be capable of renewing itself, feelings bursting to life again with it.

They should know to think about what's at stake. But Veronica finds herself being thrown down the staircase of conscious and wits, everything that keeps them apart disappearing and leaving her tumbling with only the feelings she isn't supposed to have.

When they get back to the apartment, JD breaks the silence. "I'll drive you back."

"Can I drive?" She blurts the question before her anxiety steals away the drop of courage. He tosses her the keys and they walk back downstairs. When they get in the car, her hands start shaking so badly she drops the keys twice before starting the car. "My mom taught me again after... but I managed to not have to- this is uh-"

"Ronnie."

"Hmm?" She adjusts the review mirror and glances behind them.

"Deep breaths, okay? The first time's the hardest."

She gives a quick nod, her knuckles white from her iron grip on the wheel as she starts driving slowly.

A flash of black comes out of nowhere, the impact sending her leaning to the right while jerking forward as the windshield shatters. Pain dominates her entire body. Metal scraps against metal, windows breaking and the car spinning. It's a whirlpool of pain and screeching and shattering before darkness.

"You okay?" His voice brings her from the remembrance. The color left her face, fear blanketing the confidence that the floaty feeling had given her.

She pulls over after another block, self-control abandoning her. "I can't do this." It comes out as a hoarse whimper while she swallows to keep from hyperventilating. They switch places and start again.

"You did well, it might be easier to try during the day." He throws the girl in the passenger seat a concerned glance. Her eyes fall shut as comfortable silence settles. As much as sleep temps her with the steady movement and dark atmosphere, she doesn't want to fall out the moment. Things this good don't last. Feelings this good don't last.

Occasionally, spots of light will hit her face as they pass the city. The rain turns to light drizzle. She doesn't think about the emotional hangover she may have tomorrow or the disappointment when the inevitable hits and she doesn't feel alive anymore. Alive. It's the word that has been lost, the one she grasped at to explain what she felt. What she feels.

Desire and trust are lethal. Love is suicide.

But if it feels like this, maybe she's okay with dying.


	12. Rock Bottom

THREE DAYS LATER-  
"Joanna, the defendant, is thirty-two years old and works as a nurse at Keelan Hospital. She is now being faced with charges after the bag filled with drugs she was about to sell was found. Her going to jail means her kids will be sent to stay with their aunt and uncle, who live three states away."

Winters runs through the consequences of losing, what the defendant has said so far, and how they don't yet have the full story. Before the end of class, she tells the clinic members, "Give me a good defense that can be used in court. Sawyer?"

Veronica stands. "The man who gave her the prescription drugs, Carl Blight, has a criminal record of sexual assault and rape charges, and he has had an investigation launched about giving out drugs. The victims- all women- all knew each other and two of them overdosed on drugs that they shouldn't have had in the first place."

Winters clicks a button and the screen changes to a picture of one of the victims, Lacey, covering part of her face with her hand. "What was Lacey's condition, and what are the options for prescriptions?"

"Rosacea is a skin condition that causes chronic inflammation of the face, similar to acne. There are over twenty-five prescription options, some of the most popular being doxycycline, metronidazole, and finacea."

"And what did Carl give her?"

"Oxycodone."

It earns her a look of approval. "Sawyer, you have the first chair."

***

Rock bottom.

That's where Veronica sits three days later, the pit of mental hell. The nightmares don't let her close her eyes without seeing the crash and hearing the screeching metal a hundred times. The distraction of studying only lasts so long with a short-attention-span. She and JD have called each other almost every day, but now the case prep doesn't leave much time for it.

She sets down a bottle of vodka and closes a textbook, walking over to her bed and opening the built-in drawer meant for storage. A grey plastic grocery-store bag sits next to the shoeboxes, tied up and lumpy in the corner. The contents spill onto the floor when she unties it and sets the bag aside. She picks up a bottle of methylenedioxy-methamphetamine- ecstasy.

She scored it at a party a while back, the users claiming they were in paradise. That's what she wants now, to be back in that euphoria- and maybe this way it will last longer. It may get her out of this mess, even if only for a few hours. The feeling of being alive and not being broken is what everyone needs once in a while.

She slips them into her mouth and stands to grab the vodka to wash them down.

***

NEXT DAY

"Veronica, it's me." Caroline steps into Veronica's dorm, brow furrowed and lips pressed together. "You weren't answering my texts. Do you have the- Veronica?"

"Why are you here? It's nighttime," Veronica mumbles from the bed, her voice a quiet, drunken rasp. A giggle follows.

"No, it isn't. You have court in an hour!"

"Hmmm?" She rolls over, a layer of sweat covering her forehead, eyes red and bloodshot with tear stains down her cheeks. "I'm cold."

Caroline sighs. "How much have you had to drink? And... are you high?" She looks closer and inspects the bottles on the nightstand. Molly and Vicodin. An empty bottle of vodka sits next to it, rum behind that. Melatonin accompanies the others.

"It was all gone, but not like when I woke up at the hospital, all the bad stuff was gone. I w-want to go back to that. It was like... I couldn't stay still, and I was pro-productive and... when I want to sleep, I just use the others. The nice woman left." She giggles and shuts her eyes, curling up. "You could do it."

"Veronica!" Caroline shouts, exasperated. "You can't go to court like this." She massages her temple and then takes Veronica's phone from the nightstand before walking a few feet from the dorm and going through her contacts.

"JD? This is Caroline. Veronica was supposed to take on a case today, but now I have to do it, and I think someone should be with her right now."

Shuffling comes through from the other end. "What's wrong with her?"

"She's drunk and high. Not in a fun way, I think she had some kind of mental breakdown. I'd stay, but now I only have an hour to prep for this case since she can't go in."

"I'll be over in ten."

"Thanks." Caroline hangs up and goes back into the dorm. "Ronnie? Will you be okay for a few minutes? JD will be here to-"

"To what, babysit me?" She slurs, standing and stumbling. "I don't need that."

"How about you stay in bed until-"

Veronica shoots her a glare. "I'm fine!" Caroline sighs again and takes her case-prep notes off the desk before leaving, anxious to free her clothing from the stench of alcohol.

"I'll call you later!" She calls over her shoulder from the top of the stairs. If you're alive by then.

***

Caroline doesn't understand. No one does. I want the feeling back. I'm going insane, I want to be away from it all but I can't while I'm asleep. This was better than sleep. Would death be like this? Paradise? No more Chandler, no more law school or books or stress. It was peaceful, just the music and I. I can't see clearly. I want to take more, but I keep puking and it isn't worth it. 

The pencil clatters to the floor. The crooked words on the note stare back at her before she crumples it up in sobs, tossing it over her shoulder. Something rises in her throat, and seconds later she kneels in front of the toilet, dry heaving, and shivering. Chills slice through her as goosebumps raise on the surface of her trembling arms.

Before she can take more, she has to sleep off the alcohol to stop throwing up. Crap. She curses for leaving the Vicodin in the other room. Slumping down and resting her throbbing head against the cold floor, the world sways, sways, sways. It induces a giggle through the tears as her mind destroys her. Her position is an enactment of her feelings: small, weak.

A door opens outside the room. Footsteps approach and someone begins rubbing her back. "You awake, Ronnie?"

"Mhm. You d-don't need to babysit me. C-Caroline was ex-exaggerating."

"I beg to differ since you're on the floor with a fever and no sense of time."

Veronica uncurls and struggles to stand, stumbling and almost falling over until he takes her arm and leads her into the other room, making her sit on the bed.

"They help me," she insists when he picks up one of the bottles. "I need to sleep the alcohol off."

He motions to the bed. "Then sleep."

"I need them to sleep," she says bluntly. "And could you get me another bottle of rum?"

"Veronica, Vicodin isn't a sleeping pill- is this from the crash?"

"I said my injuries hurt and they gave me more. Give it to me," she whines. "JD. They help me."

He sets it down on the desk and sits down on the bed, where Veronica glares. "I know it feels good for a few hours, but they aren't going to make you feel better in the long-run."

"That's why you take more. But I can't because I'll throw it up, and I have to sleep the booze off, but I can't without the pills. You follow?" She smiles, swinging her feet before flopping down face-up.

"That isn't a routine you want to get into. What are you trying to get away from?"

Tears stream down from her bloodshot eyes. She looks away and runs her fingers through her hair, knotted and tangled.

"The pain. The fact that I could die and no one would care, not even me." She wipes her eyes with the back of her hand."And half of the time I'm numb, and the other half I'm in so much pain and everything is falling apart."

What is she feeling? The room still spins, colors blurring together and furniture coming across as smaller or larger than it is. But it isn't euphoria, she doesn't want to get up and dance or use up every bit of energy the buzz gives her.

"I can't sleep without nightmares. I can't focus, I can't do what I used to do and convince myself that I'm okay with being completely alone because I can't handle it anymore!" Her hand flies up to cover her mouth as she breaks down in sobs, face crumpling. She moves to the floor in front of the bed, leaning back and bringing her knees to her chest.

JD wraps an arm around her, and she rests her head on his shoulder as more tears roll down her cheeks. "I don't even know what I'm feeling," she admits with a sad laugh.

"That's a good thing, if you were in pain you'd know."

She sniffles and moves closer. "No, I'm numb, I guess. It's... cold. I'm used to it, so why does it still hurt?" Her cries turn to sobs again, buried pain erupting despite her heart feeling as if it's covered in ice. She lets her legs fall from her chest and goes limp, burying her face in his shoulder. "Do you- why-"

"Don't try to talk," he says, knowing she'll pass out if she starts crying any harder. Veronica curls up smaller in response as he puts an arm around her waist. Being held still carries an unfamiliar feeling from being close to somebody for the first time in a while. Her crying turns to sniffles with time, oceans of ineffable pain being reduced to rivers from finally escaping her. They stay in the hug, rocking slightly.

"People expect me to stay, but...what's the point? I'm not even living." Her words create a heavy rock in her chest. "Why shouldn't I want to leave?"

"What makes you want to stay?"

She gives a mere shrug. "I guess thinking that maybe one day I'll be okay. And I want to remember more, I want to be somebody. I want to go to parties and have sleepovers with Caroline and stay up late talking to you in the middle of the night."

"Then stay and do all those things."

"I know. But I have these low days and everything crushes me. I feel like I'm dying."

He sighs, shifting his position and moving his hand from her waist to her back. "We all have those days, Veronica. But you keep going."

"When does it get easier?"

"It doesn't, you just get better at picking yourself up after the hard days and not letting it ruin the good ones."

Veronica sniffles, nodding and letting her eyes fall shut. The world has stopped spinning, but a wave of lightheadedness hits her, a reminder of how long it's been since eating or drinking. The molly does that: makes her feel invincible and takes away the signs that her body needs something. It made her float, sent her to heaven. But what goes up must come down, and the sudden ache and hunger are her hitting the ground.

She lifts her head when he removes his arms from around her, taking her hand to help her stand up. Between the drugs, alcohol, and breakdown, her eyes and head throb, eyes tight and puffy. The world seems to fall from under her.

"Ronnie. Hey, keep your eyes open and sit up." He makes her sit on the bed.

She manages a drowsy "hmm?"

"You blacked out." Footsteps recede. The world sways some more. "Small sips, Okay?" He hands her a bottle of water. "When's the last time you ate something?"

He notices her tense at the question. "This morning," she says in between sips of water. He doesn't get to ruin this, she thinks in a panic. I'm not going back to how I was. I'll die before I do.

When she's stable enough to stay conscious, she sets down the water and lays down. "Lay with me?" She asks, desperate to change the subject. He lays down next to her and lets her curl up against him. She's too comfortable for her own good. It's beginning to seem like a game, approaching the line they can't cross, poking at the danger, then receding in a hurry before they get burned.

Before everything explodes.

***

"I'm sorry. For bailing and stuff."

"It's fine, it was a bit stressful but I managed." Caroline gives her a tight smile and shoves her books into her bag before walking out of the classroom. Veronica removes her phone from her back pocket, a text from an unknown number popping up.

\- You deserve everything she got. 1884 Caliask Avenue, the party starts at 8.


	13. 2 AM

⚠⚠⚠⚠⚠READ ⚠⚠⚠⚠⚠ MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING FOR ATTEMPTED RAPE/ASSAULT. It doesn't go all the way, but reader discretion is advised.

"A party?"

"Yeah. Maybe whoever's blackmailing me will reveal themself or something." Veronica finishes applying eyeshadow and walks over to the door.

"That would be a lot of people to confront you in front of, but be careful, okay?"

"Mhmm. I'll call you later." She slips her phone into her purse, jogging downstairs and calling for a taxi. Her hands shake as she clicks, goosebumps rising on her arms from the chill in the air. It hadn't occurred to her to bring a jacket, knowing how stuffy the parties usually are.

Her apprehension doesn't fade, gaining as she walks inside to the smoky air, warm bodies, and stench of alcohol. Music blasts from an unseen speaker, filling the atmosphere with upbeat energy. She walks past people making out or dancing.

⚠

The debate about whether or not to grab a drink ends, her conclusion being the need for a clear head. Caroline stands in the corner talking to Peggy, and Veronica darts her eyes away, not knowing what Peggy will do. It seems like high school all over again, dodging certain people, being tempted with alcohol at parties, and wearing clothes you regret by the end of the night.

A hand latches onto Veronica's wrist, pulling her down the dark hall and into a bedroom. The door slams as the figure shoves her against the bed. They don't turn on the light.

"What the hell?"

"Drink this." The voice is male, deep and nervous but forceful and serious. "Drink it." A cup is pressed to her lips. She shoves him backward, drops of the drink splashing onto both of them. She bolts for the door before he takes hold of her wrists, pinning her down against the bed with a knee pressing on her torso before removing a hand from her wrist and swinging. The impact of the punch leaves blood trailing down her face and mixing with her tears.

"I wanted to be a good person for once. That may cost me everything, and if you had listened-" He lets her lift her head only to slam her body back down when she struggles. "It would have been painless. But she wants it to hurt. So it's going to hurt."

She gasps for air when he releases her. "What- who-"

"Don't talk," he growls, cupping her face with his hand and digging his nails into her skin. When he pins her down with her back facing him after her dress is off, he snickers and rolls her over.

"God, this is a punishment." He eyes her stretch marks. "I don't know if I even want to see the rest of you." One hand presses against her chest to keep her there, the other running down her leg as he comments about her body. She finally gathers enough strength to slide an arm free and take a swing at his head, which sends him swaying before regaining balance and throwing her to the floor by her arm. The world spins as she swings again, then kicks him backward and grabs her dress from the floor.

Out of there in seconds, she finishes adjusting the sleeves and is out of the house, running down the street with warm tears still racing down her face. Blood pours from her lip and nose, a bruise on her cheek and under her eye. Angry red marks form bracelets around her wrists. Her shoulder aches, legs still trembling as she slows to a jog and pulls out her phone.

\- How's it going? Know anything else so far?

Her head buzzes with questions, pain, and fear, hands shaking as she responds.

-just left.

She debates whether or not to call a taxi, then does it even though they may see the wounds. She plans a cover-up story in her mind. The college is too far to walk, and she'll freeze before getting there.

Her phone vibrates with a call, but she declines it and paces. Was it planned? He didn't seem drunk. It has to have something to do with the text. You deserve everything she got... they have to be talking about Chandler. Her phone buzzes again, but she ignores it as the taxi pulls up.

When she arrives at her dorm, the only thing she isn't too tired to do is to cry. Once her face is numb and red from it, she gets into bed with her body still throbbing, clutching her pillow and praying for death.

***

"Veronica?"

"Don't come in!" She calls out, rolling over. Caroline puts her ear to the door.

"Why'd you miss a class? What's going on?"

"Nothing, I'm sick. I already have the work, thanks."

Caroline opens the door anyways. She lets out an audible gasp when seeing Veronica, but the shock fades in a matter of seconds. "What happened?"

"I fell." Textbooks and papers lay spread out on the floor, a bottle of whiskey next to them. Vicodin sits on the nightstand, but she doesn't seem to be high.

For once, she uses them for their real use: to numb physical pain.

"Where? It looks like it hurt. JD is texting me because you aren't answering your phone." Caroline walks back over to the door. Veronica seems fine. Maybe she needed a day without stress to catch up on her work.

"I'll call him back in a minute." Once Caroline leaves, Veronica rips her phone off the charger to see several missed calls from her and JD, along with a text from an unknown number.

\- have fun last night? Ouch, sounds like a lot of people know. I bet you're enjoying the publicity.

Veronica deletes the text and blinks back tears. How many people know a false story? She'll have to tell him, it may be crucial to them finding out who's doing this. But how is she supposed to explain it? Would he even believe her?

-Hey. Sorry, I was asleep. Safe enough, she decides, pressing send. She receives an immediate call and winces, bracing herself and accepting it.

"Hey, Uh, how are things?"

"Jess jumped off a balcony. She lied, told me she was pregnant and begged for money, then went back to her boyfriend's place and-"

"You have to be kidding me- I mean, uh, sorry." Veronica slips a hoodie on and begins dabbing concealer on the bruises.

He laughs. "It's... is it bad that I'm not bawling my eyes out with her perfume on?"

"I don't think so, that's more of a thing they do in novels."

His tone becomes serious. "Are you alright?"

"You're the one who's ex just died, why would you ask me that?" She lets out a nervous laugh. "I hope you're calling in an invitation to come over because I already have makeup on and I got out of bed for the first time in a while. I need to study for-"

"Answer me."

"Yes, I'm fine, why?" She finishes with the concealer. It doesn't cover the severity but blends it with her skin a bit more. The red marks around her wrists have turned to bruises. There's a long silence on the other end while she shoves books into her bag.

"Yeah, you can come over," he finally says.

When they end the call, Veronica tries to find a shirt with sleeves that will cover her wrists but comes up successful and leaves in the outfits she's already in.

When she arrives, her bruises seem a hundred times more evident and visible, begging to be seen. Her anxiety peaks as he opens the door.

"Hey." She bites her lip with a strained smile. He seems to scan her, observing her face for a long moment before letting her in. "I have an exam coming up, so I was hoping-"

"Sit down."

Veronica tells herself that the tone is a side effect of the recent death, but that thought doesn't keep her stomach from twisting into knots. They sit down on the couch in silence.

"Uh, can I ask why you're looking at me like that?" She says after a moment, shifting her position for the fiftieth time.

It's time. Time for her to use the shield of professionalism to her advantage, to once again put that wall back up. Maybe a glance is sometimes enough to make her seem to float, maybe they hate pushing each other way, but she realizes it's necessary.

How is she supposed to that when she's shared a part of herself already? When she's let herself feel and get a taste of need? Can she make that go away?

"You're pretty."

That takes her by total surprise. She takes out textbooks while fumbling for words. "Thanks," she squeaks out, cheeks slightly pink. "Uh, so, what should we start on? Chandler? Peggy is still super pissed at me, and she and Caroline have been hanging out a lot, which is totally awkward." She uncaps a highlighter. "I know this sounds crazy, but I think she's trying to pin her murder on me."

"Because she found out new evidence?"

"It's more than just that, but her sudden betrayal, maybe it's just for the money. But the thing is, she'd still get the money if she proved it was a suicide. And the case being open makes everything ten times harder."

"Find anything about this mystery number last night?"

She tenses. God, this is a punishment... it's going to hurt... his face replays in her mind, the look of total disgust when seeing her body. Is that how JD used to look at her? Was seeing her a punishment? She tries to shake the thoughts away but they keep coming. I'll have to spit it out at some point.

"No, not as much as I hoped." She reaches to grab her notebook off the table. His hand is on her hand before she can blink, causing her to tense with a sudden edge to her breathing. "What are you doing?"

He lifts her arm up gently, eyes glued to what she wanted to hide. How does she explain? He rolls her sleeve up before she can say anything, taking in the marks before letting her arm go. Veronica stares at her lap, anywhere and everywhere but his eyes.

"Veronica. Who?"

"No one," she whispers, pulling her sleeve back down.

"Look at me."

"The bruises are my fault. A guy at the party tried... he tried to rape me and I kept struggling. I didn't listen." She finally meets his eye. "Can we get back to work?"

The expression that crosses his face proves to be unidentifiable. Anger? Surprise? His mouth has fallen open, eyes narrowed and fists clenched.

"Do you know who?"

"No. Look, I get it if you don't believe me-"

"What? No, Veronica, I believe you. And it wasn't your fault." He can sense the fear and see the pain in her face, the alertness in her eyes when he touched her and her shaking hands. He'd almost forgot the blinding rage that surfaced when someone hurt her. It had been nothing like the self-hatred he felt when realizing that he had hurt her, but it brought storm clouds of things that he now tries to push aside for her sake.

"It almost seemed planned," she says. "He wasn't drunk. And he tried to offer me a drink, claiming it would make it painless. I didn't know what he was talking about then, and then he said "she wants it to hurt," as if someone told him to do it." She swallows the lump in her throat as memories send her spiraling. "He said that he tried to be a good person but I wouldn't listen..." she becomes more sure of her theory with every word.

He runs his fingers through his hair. "Why you?"

The color drains from Veronica's face. "The text. "You deserve everything she got." If they're talking about Chandler... she was raped. "You deserve everything she got." She rests her head in her hands for a few seconds.

"I deserve it. Whoever's writing these knows it."

"Veronica, you didn't deserve it." His tone remains soft despite the real feelings bubbling under the surface. She needs comfort, not anger.

"I got an invite to a trip later on in the year," she says, changing the subject. "But I don't have the money for it. I'll have to talk to my parents for the first time in..." her words trail off as she looks around and then back at JD. "Thank you."

"For?"

"Believing me. Helping me." She curses herself for trusting him, for trusting after everything. How is she alive enough to still feel like this? He makes her have to think of all the things that remain a secret because that's the only shield she has left. Her past a mystery and future undecided, the only thing she knows is now. There are many things they would like to do with now, to do with each other, and to say to each other.

But the line they can't cross remains. As tempting as a kiss is, as wonderful the comfort of every embrace, it would mean they can't go back. Dipping into the waters of blood called romance isn't what either need. It's the mantra that they find themselves repeating each night when the other won't leave their mind.

They fall into a comfortable silence before Veronica takes out flashcards and more study material. Somehow, they end up halfway studying, halfway talking about random things for the next three hours.

Veronica throws her pen down and leans back, a glimmer in her eye as she bites her lip and smiles.

***

When she stumbles back into her dorm that night, a little drunk and digging through her purse to make sure she didn't lose her credit card, her thoughts are a jumble of curses and warnings. It needs to stop. She can't stop herself from going back, she can't push the feelings away or wipe the stupid smile off of her face. Has she been smiling all night?

Knowing she'll have to talk to her parents tomorrow is the last thing on her mind. Even by 2 AM, the last thing she wants to do is sleep. Maybe dance, get high, or maybe pick up the phone. Her bed seems to spin her around as if she was on a roller coaster before this. Her emotions count as one, right? Will she ever get off of it?

The bartender had known her name the second she walked in. She and JD obviously have met, but Veronica wonders how she knew about her. Did JD tell her about them? She would glance at them like she knew something. As if she could see their past through their eyes.

It threw a blanket of vulnerability over Veronica, knowing that someone could be sensing what she feels: everything she isn't supposed to.

Here we go again. She's lonely. She wants somebody. She craves comfort. There are a million explanations for what she feels- explanations that aren't what she pushes from her mind.

Explanations that aren't the truth.


	14. Betrayal Doesn't Rest

"Yes?" Amanda holds the phone closer to her ear, looking around the city street. A hooded man walks by, stealing a glance before continuing down the street and out of her sight.

"Care to explain? Are you forgetting the deal? Don't let a little drama cloud your vision."

"I-I know," Amanda replies. But she's been given a better offer. Why is she being attacked at random? Someone must have said something. Someone always does. "I can assure you, everything is fine. But she's been involved with her and... I know who she is. I could easily-"

"No."

"But it would solve the problem!" She pleads, images of blood splatter already in her mind.

"Your job is to protect her, and do you know what that would do?"

That's why I'd do it, idiot, she thinks.

"I know what it would look like-"

"You don't know anything. Listen and you receive."

Anger bubbles under Amanda's skin, but she forces a "Yes ma'am."

"You are not to do anything that wasn't planned, understood?"

"Yes. Another thing, would you like me to split them up again?" She looks around again, rubbing her arm, which is now covered in goosebumps from the chill.

"I'll handle that. Focus on keeping her safe and keeping them away from each other."

"Done."

The line goes dead. Amanda slams the phone down and heads back to the college.


	15. Unsteady

"And can someone tell me what a defense would be? Sawyer."

Easy. Veronica stands. "Well, if the defendant..." her voice trails off as she sways and falls to the floor.

Gasps and murmurs erupt from surrounding students, who turn in their seats and stare in concern. Winters looks up from her paper and sighs. It's happened before, though usually, the student falls with their head on the table. Two students are ordered to bring her to the nurse and then the class continues.

When Veronica wakes up in the nurse's office, her head has a heartbeat and it takes several seconds for her vision to settle. Someone hands her a plastic cup of water.

Panic arises before receding when she remembers that water is safe.

She finishes the cup and then throws her legs over the side of the cot, but a nurse stops her before she can get far.

"I'm fine, I'm just tired."

"When you get to your dorm, eat and drink something. And get a full eight hours of sleep tonight. You law school kids are always pulling all-nights or whatever you call them."

Veronica nods so that she'll shut up. "Ok. Thanks."

Caroline catches up to her in the hall. "What the hell? I thought you were in love but love doesn't make you faint. Did you sleep at all last night."

"I'm fine. I have torts next, I have to go." She runs off before the interrogation can continue. After school, she sleeps through a cab ride to JD's, her bag heavier than usual and eyes even heavier.

"Ma'am. Ma'am-"

"I'm awake, I'm awake," she groans, getting out of the car and trudging upstairs. It takes longer than usual because of her constant stopping to catch her breath. Everything spins around her, lightheadedness adding another few minutes. She almost sounds drunk when entering the room.

"Hey, Sorry I didn't text. I just... blanked..." one shaky hand stays on the wall to steady herself.

"Are you okay?" JD walks up to her and studies her porcelain pale face. She leans on him and stumbles to the couch, immediately curling up and pulling a blanket over herself.

"Yeah, I'm tired." In truth, she slept better than she has in a while last night. She hit a wall again, unable to use the drugs because she wouldn't be able to handle the side effects on top of this. But she needs them to handle this. Her fingers curl around the edge of a pillow. Tempted to sob, she squeezes her eyes shut and falls asleep in seconds.

***

"What was I... Oh..." Awakening, Veronica yawns and tries to stand. Bad idea. The floor falls from under her, forcing her to sit again and rest her head in her hands until the stars fade.

The couch sinks next to her as someone sits down, and she looks up while leaning back.

"Sorry, I thought we could get some work done and..." she trails off and yawns again. The nap failed to scare away the tiredness that lingers and never seems to leave nowadays.

"What's going on?" JD asks her with a brow raised in that I-know-something's-up way.

"Nothing," she insists.

"Really? Because you almost pass out every time you stand up and you look exhausted even a two-hour nap."

"T-two hours...? I'm sorry, I- Could we start?" She laughs, desperate to change the subject. "I haven't gotten any more notes. But... is it just me or does something feel off? Caroline's been acting weird, Peggy's still... Peggy and my mom kept asking weird questions." She chews her lip and shifts.

"What are you implying?"

"Nothing. But do you think..." she trails off and looks up, hoping he'll understand without her having to say it

"That they have something to do with it?"

"Am I horrible for saying that? Maybe I'm just paranoid that Caroline's going to turn against me the way Peggy did." Would she? She contemplates. She's the only one who knows about the crash, but why would she be blackmailing her? "No. Look, my mom's always on me about trusting people, maybe she's right. Maybe I need to stop being so paranoid because that's why everyone leaves me."

He throws her a questioning look before nodding. "Okay, then who wants to hurt you?"

"I don't know... do you think Peggy would stoop that low because of one fight? Maybe Caroline told someone else in the clinic or- Oh my god, anyone in the school could know!" 

"There's still the possibility that someone heard about it-possibly from Caroline- and thought it would be funny even though they don't have the video. But that doesn't explain the   
"amnesia-girl" thing."

Veronica shakes her head in confusion. "Either someone's trying to scare me or it isn't a joke at all."

"Maybe they've stopped. A joke is only a joke for so long, and they know they could get in trouble from it."

"Yeah," she manages. "Hopefully."

A ringing phone shatters the comfortable silence that follows, and JD goes into the bedroom to answer. 

It isn't until later that night Veronica receives an explanation. She rips her earbuds out, panting from her workout, and picks up the phone. A text instructs her to meet him on a certain street. She sends back a quick acknowledgment and changes into something less sporty.

She walks down the street, nothing but a calm breeze blowing through her hair. She ends up on a street that leads down to the shore. The air holds that entrancing ocean smell, the temperature dropping. It's hard to see pure darkness living in the city with signs and cars and buildings everywhere. Looking out over the water, she takes in endless darkness and shimmering ripples, the moon sending down a stream of light that reflects onto the water and reaches her eyes, illuminating her face. Footsteps approach but her eyes stay on the water, watching a boat in the distance.

"It's pretty."

"It's different. You can actually move without running into somebody."

They begin to walk. The area is quieter than the main cities but still noisy enough to remind you where you are. It's one of the more popular beaches, known from the photography and the name on its own.

"Do you plan on telling me why we're here?" She raises a brow and stuffs her hands in her pockets, kicking pebbles. The silence that follows causes her to look up. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. You feel any better?"

"I never felt bad, but yes."

"Any new memories recently?"

She thinks back to everything she tried: scrapbooking, photography, caring for plants that died in a week, and calligraphy. "Rien d'important. Nothing important." She sighs and looks from the sandy ground to his intricate expression, failing to determine what's going on in his mind. "I passed my assessment," she adds after a moment.

"I knew you would."

"You always say that, and look what happened the time before that." She shakes her head with a small scoff.

"You're too hard on yourself, a B isn't-"

"An A? You're right, JD, a B isn't an A. If I planned on getting B's, I would have gone to Kealan, or to Jeff Dalewo-"

He laughs and nudges her, shaking his head because the girl next to him seemed to have turned into a seventeen-year-old who went crazy when seeing the slightest imperfection in herself. Reassurance did nothing to stop that, and her parent's pressure didn't help. She isn't perfect and won't believe those who tell her she is. But with moonlight dancing in her eyes and the first smile in days tugging at her lips, she's pretty damn close.

"Can you tell me what's going on yet?"

"Maybe I just wanted to bring you down here."

"At night, unplanned, when we both have things to do tomorrow, and with no car, blankets, or anything? Sounds legit."

He laughs again. "You have a point."

"Bad news?" They finally stop walking, staring at the water and then turning to each other. "I can take it, say whatever it is."

"It's not... bad, just-"

"Say it."

"There's a job opportunity. The call yesterday, that's what it was about. I can never stick to anything, stay anywhere... maybe it's from how I grew up. Anyways, they claim to have heard about me from being my coworker's friend- I don't know everything yet."

Veronica furrows a brow. "Well... that's great, right?"

"Eh. Pays higher. They said they'll pay rent for every day until I leave once I quit my job- that is after I agree."

"Okay. Well, if it's something you want then go for it. I don't think you needed me to tell you that." She flashes a nervous smile before falling serious again. "What's the catch?"

"It's in California."


	16. True Feelings

"Oh."

That lone word is the only response Veronica gives for the next few minutes as they walk back. "That's...far," she adds quietly.

"Yeah."

She continues to stare at the ground. "I heard the coast is nice. They have good wine, too. I also heard-"

"Veronica."

"What do you want me to say?" She snaps, turning. He can see the unmistakable hurt in her eyes for the first time. "If you want to leave then leave. Don't make it about me." Talking about leaving goes a lot deeper than what they speak of at the moment. Years ago, she screamed for him not to leave from a hospital bed. It doesn't feel much different now, except this time her screams are silent.

By now, she believes she'll end up alone either way.

"I don't want you to say anything, I-"

"This isn't my decision, it doesn't matter." Despite her expression softening, her eyes remain scrunched up as if she's in pain. "Do whatever you want. I have to go." She takes off down the street, the only thing going faster than her pace being her thoughts.

Inconvenient things happen, this isn't personal, she tries and fails to convince herself. Instead of arriving back at the college, she pushes the door to a small bar open and walks inside. Few people remain, a small group tucked into the corner, laughing over drinks and some strays looking at their phones or planners or the people out the window. Veronica slides into a stool at the counter and waits for the woman to turn around.

"A Negroni. How did you know my name?" She folds her hands on the counter with a smile as the woman laughs, tucking a strand of raven-colored hair behind her ear before beginning to mix the drink.

"Hello to you, too," Marina says. Veronica notices the purple streak in her hair that used to be blue. She has a lip piercing and two black studs in her ears, a sleeve of tattoos on one arm and one on her neck that peeks through when her hair allows it.

"Did JD tell you? We came in here a little while back and I gathered that you two know each other. Are you neighbors or something?" She laughs again, causing Veronica to give a nervous chuckle of her own. "Is that a yes?"

Marina slides her drink across the counter and leans against the counter in front of her, folding her hands. They both turn and watch the group of young friends exit, chatting, some of them clearly drunk, before looking back at each other.

"Veronica Sawyer."

"What do you know?" Veronica begs, already getting antsy. "How did you know who I was?"

"I pieced it together. It was clear the second you two walked in. You matched the description and usually, he walks out with girls, not the other way around."

"What description? H-He told you about me? Like... before we saw each other again?"

Marina sighs, a knowing glint in her dark eyes. "Look, do you know what one of the best things about you being back is?" She pauses as Veronica shakes her head. "That he'll finally shut up about you."

Veronica goes red. She takes a long sip of her drink before speaking. "Why would he... I figured he'd forget. I'm assuming you know about the crash."

"Forget? Hell, sometimes I wished he did. It would've saved us quite a few hours. It wasn't hard to figure out who you were. And the way you two looked at each other said most of it on its own."

"Oh, we aren't- the circumstances we're under are... coincidental, necessary."

"Okay. That doesn't change anything."

"We aren't romantic, is what I'm saying. I don't do love anymore."

Marina laughs, shaking her head. "As if you have a choice. You two are real stupid, you know that?"

The unexpected comment throws a blanket of confusion over Veronica's face. "Uh. What?"

"You lost each other once, is that right?"

She picks up her drink and swirls it, watching the liquid splash against the side. "Yeah. We both lost feelings, we didn't have a choice. I always thought he'd forget me. I was trying to get over the heartbreak-"

"So why are you killing yourselves all over again? You're back, and I can imagine the hurricane that is on its own. I can't read your mind and I can't tell you what you're feeling, but I find it hard to believe that everything is gone. It has to hard for things to go back to normal after everything."

"I hate it!" Veronica exclaims, not realizing how true it is until the words are out. "I don't know what we are, I don't know what he wants to be, and now he may go to California and I don't know what to do."

"What do you want?"

Veronica stares at the counter. "Something I shouldn't."

"Ah." Marina holds up a finger and steps to the side to assist somebody else, leaving Veronica to her thoughts. She walks back up and gives her a refill before leaning back against the island, arms crossed across her chest and a brow raised. "So there are feelings."

The statement earns her a groan as the brunette lays her head on the table. "I don't know. We couldn't have picked up where we left off after anything, and now we're both... I'm broken. And lonely. So what if those aren't feelings but me wanting something? Wanting someone?"

"They could be," Marina nods. "But there's a difference between wanting him and wanting somebody. It isn't just about fulfillment." She takes a step forward as Veronica looks up.

"There are consequences to trusting and I'm not ready to lose again. I know it was a misunderstanding because of my parents, but I'm still... vulnerable, I guess."

"It's a defense. You don't want to get hurt. You don't need to jump into anything, but secrets are what's going to destroy you two right now." It's as if she knows about Veronica's secret, the gleam in her eye seeming to look right through her, words directed at what she knows Veronica won't say out loud. "Maybe you're both a mess. But you don't have to be perfect to deserve somebody, as long as you can keep yourself standing well enough to help somebody do the same. And if it's good, you'll have somebody doing the same for you."

"Do you think he wants that?" Veronica asks quietly.

Marina leans back and lets her head tilt to one side. "I think he would give you anything at this point. You two have too much going for you, don't let fear get in the way of that. Neither of you knows how to be apart, apparently. Booze, random partners to try and fill that gap. This isn't a few years ago. This is now, and you're back, so both of you need to stop being a mess and do what you obviously want to."

Veronica nods, thinking in silence. Would she be ruining everything? It wouldn't matter if he leaves. When she stumbles out of the bar a while later, the floaty feeling has morphed into irritation. No one gets to break her walls down and make her melt with one touch, especially someone who already broke her heart. Is that the test? Moving past the pain?

More importantly, are they entering something more dangerous?

***

NEXT DAY

Veronica jogs upstairs with her phone in one hand and books in the other. A group of students stands clumped together in the hall, whispering with anxious expressions. She pushes past them and approaches two clinic members, Hannah and Carrie, who both wear the same layer of confusion as everyone else.

"Where have you been?" Hannah asks, turning to Veronica.

"Running. What's going on? Why's there an ambulance outside?"

They exchange worried glances before answering. Veronica runs downstairs, body numb and a face like stone. She and JD haven't talked since he told her about California. Screw that, she thinks, thoughts a hurricane but breathing and voice as calm and even as can be.

"Caroline's dead."


	17. They Know Everything

"I didn't kill her."

JD sits down on the bed next to Veronica. "Never said you did."

"You were thinking it," Veronica replies. Her voice never changes from monotone and low. She stares at the wall in front of her, not moving or talking unless prompted. "Same method. That's what whoever did it wants you to think. It makes me look guilty."

"Why would you kill your friend?"

She shrugs. "There are lots of ways they could pin it on me."

He puts a hand on top of hers, making her look over in curiosity. "You okay?"

"I'm fine, why?" She says with a soft smile. The shock will fade away at some point, and when it does, Veronica's reaction won't be pretty. It isn't as much the shock that JD assumes it is but the overwhelmingness of it all. There are too many things to feel and process. Someone who may know everything killed an innocent girl, an attempt to add more blood to Veronica's hands. The pressure on her shoulders now feels like a boulder, grief unable to surface from the quantum of the fear.

Veronica stands and begins to flip through books and papers. "We need to figure out the Chandler case. And since there's a similarity as big as the method tying the two cases together, it's crucial we prove why they're different." She looks up with a gleam in her eye. "I have an idea. It's a tad bit illegal." She tosses him her phone and shuffles through papers on her desk, kneeling down and taking out a binder filled with notebooks. "Call Hannah and put her on speaker."

Hannah answers on the third ring. "Hello?"

"Hey, your boyfriend knows how to hack into the evidence logs from the police department, right?"

***

"I have a feeling. It has to have something to do with me, it wasn't a suicide. As much as I wish we could just prove both were suicides, one motivating the other, they're so far apart it would be almost impossible. Unless there are enough connections between the two. I doubt it. I need to find out what evidence they have stored first, and if it involves me we need to get rid of it."

"And how do you plan on doing that?"

"That, I don't know. But I need to go through her dorm first-"

"Ronnie, it's been like an hour. There may still be people there-"

"Then we'll go tonight when no one's there." She smiles and continues to write down plans. The drive, the fire keeps her going. Grief hasn't seeped through yet from her plans and goals blocking it out. Think about the legal stuff now, Caroline later. She rests her head in her hands as the world begins to spin. "This is a mess. What are we trying to do? What if I'm wrong and they aren't connected?"

"Maybe you should take a little while to let yourself process everything."

"No, that'll... thinking isn't good right now. I need to focus on this," she insists. They work for the next few hours, music playing softly in the background the only thing breaking the silence other than the turning of pages or rustling of papers.

In the midst of the silence forms the base of a plan.

***

"Did we do a lot of this in high school? Dammit, I thought this might happen." Veronica tries the doorknob again before taking a step back. "Do you have your credit card?"

He slips it to her while looking behind them. "No, our typical Friday night didn't usually consist of breaking into crime scenes."

Both of them wear gloves, keeping their heads down in the dark hall. The students have gone to sleep, leaving the building eerily quiet. 

Veronica raises a brow while jamming the card into the crack between the door and the wall, sliding it up and down until a click sounds and the knob gives. "Usually? That's a story for another time. Don't turn on the light."

They step inside, dodging crime scene tape and entering the dark room. "There's a lamp on her desk." When faint light illuminates part of the room, they spot a blue stain on the floor.

"Look for anything linking her to Chandler and anything that could incriminate us." Veronica begins digging through the closet, pulling a sweater off of the hanger and draping it over her arm. It's the light blue one her mom bought after the crash. She turns and opens a drawer. Supplies and CDs spill out, disappointment flooding Veronica as she finds nothing but that throughout the drawer.

"Veronica, aren't these your notes?"

She turns and takes the paper he holds out to her. On it are the details of Chandler's murder, written out in a way that sounds as if she were planning it in the moment.

" I was trying to put myself in her shoes or l-like whatever h-happened-" she fumbles for words while reading over the crinkled paper. "Where did you find this?"

"Bookshelf." He kneels down next to the bed, lifting up the blanket that falls to the floor to reveal a drawer. "I have a feeling she's hiding something more than booze in here."

"I don't store booze in mine. The closet keeps it colder," she mumbles, kneeling down next to him. "Open it."

The drawer opens with little effort. The duo holds their breaths only to have their faces fall in disappointment. A black duffel bag covers over half of the wooden bottom, a silver zipper running down the top of it. They exchange a glance before unzipping it.

"Oh mon Dieu. That's a lot of cash."

They both stare, mouths hanging open. Stacks and rolls of cash stare back at them.

"Do you think it's all blood money?"

"Or hush money." Veronica stands and opens the cabinet of the nightstand. She takes out a red photo album and begins to flip through it.

"JD. Oh my god."

He leans down and looks at the photos over her shoulder. "Is that...?"

"Chandler," Veronica confirms. "They knew each other." She turns the page, flipping the book over and starting at the other end. "The photos stop at senior year. They start when the girls were babies..."

"Sisters."

"Sisters. Christ. Holy crap, they were sisters. That means..."

"She could have the video."

They exchange a hopeless look. Then, all rules are forgotten and they tear through drawers and books, taking out anything that looks remotely suspicious.

"There's a girlfriend involved."

"Caroline had a girlfriend?"

"Chandler did." Veronica's eyes go wide as she tucks a photo into her pocket. "I can use that in court if it goes there. Say that Caroline told me she hated herself for it and felt... unaccepted. That could be used as a motive."

"Did she have a kid?"

"Caroline?" She leans over to examine the photo he holds up to her. "No. That looks nothing like her or Chandler, anyways. Probably a cousin."

"Yeah. Hey, does she have a driver's license?"

"I think so. I don't know where it is. Maybe we'll find it in the evidence log." She straps the duffel bag over her shoulder while standing, pockets full of photos and papers and her sweater tied around her waist. "I have a way to get whatever we need now."

He hands her the rest of their findings and they both leave after looking over everything one last time. Sneaking back into Veronica's dorm, they throw everything down and flop down on the bed, then, without intending to, both fall asleep.

Around two in the morning, JD awakens to the bright light of the TV and Veronica's sobs. She looks over her shoulder at him before turning back to the news. The shock has worn off judging by her puffy eyes and trembling hands, one wrapped around a bottle of brandy that she drinks straight.

"She's dead. Why's she dead?"

"Yeah, Ronnie-"

"I know we didn't find the video, but do you think it was her? The blackmailer?"

"I don't know. Why would she spend so much time pretending to be your friend if she wanted to turn you in?" He rubs her back while she takes a swig of alcohol, setting the bottle down and bringing her knees to her chest.

Why do you go numb when there's too much to feel? Is it because you don't know what to react to or is it a warning meant to prepare you for the pain ahead? Denial is a sign telling you to slow down because the world is about to go ten times too fast and then slow down in the middle of the night when you're alone and craving to go back to when you couldn't feel. It's a warning that the road is icy and you'll slide right off of it at some point.

Veronica decides that the worst part is that her heart is still beating. The drive in her refuses to die, her mind refuses to slow down. But she can't keep her head in a textbook every minute. The hunger for distraction and success eats her alive. Loneliness drives her to the point of insanity.

Veronica stumbles to her desk and rips a paper in half, her eyes windows to the rage that simmers under her skin. The anger disseminates through her body, fists clenched by her sides. She's suddenly so awake and alive that she doesn't know what to do. What can she do? Destroy herself or destroy something.

"I'm curious what we're going to find tomorrow," she says, voice once again monotone. Her body is stiff, breathes heavy and forced. "It scares me, you know."

"What does?"

"It's the problem with being "bright" and smart and all that... you're scared of what people will do if they find out that you're not. That you have this part of yourself that's so, so dark. Everyone thinks that you're okay with spending every night alone and doing nothing but work because you act like you don't need anything else."

She sniffles, not bothering to wipe tears that race down from her unblinking eyes. "Maybe I want something. Maybe I want more." Finally turning, nothing but the TV illuminating her face. Each breath sends her lips trembling more. "But everything gets taken from me. Everything!"

They say you see red when you're mad, but Veronica sees every color visible through the darkness. Things seem to move in slow motion, and her own voice sounds distant and weak, or maybe it's from her ears being plugged from tears running down the sides of her face. She bites her cheek until coppery liquid drips onto her tongue.

The day's events- no, the week's events- swirl around, a giant whirlpool of fear. Eighteen marks the date you stop being able to curl up under a safety blanket. No one protects you and no one makes sure you have a warm meal at the end of the day. But does she deserve all of this?

It isn't the dead, she decides, that want revenge. If so, it would be a life for a life. Instead, she's received what those left behind have: a lifetime of pain.

Before Veronica falls asleep, curled up in the fetal position with her head heavy from the alcohol, she swears she can hear Heather laughing at her.


	18. First Chair

Veronica awakens with her head throbbing and the light flooding in from the window seeming ten times brighter than usual. She fumbles for her phone and then grabs the half-empty bottle of vodka from the counter, taking a swig and sitting down. Classes have been canceled for the day due to the circumstances no one will be honest about. An assembly about hosting a safe environment is expected, an official announcement about the death inevitable.

\- How's the hangover?

\- Think draino will fix it? Seems to be the remedy. - sorry, that wasn't funny, She adds, wincing as last night's pain hits her like a truck.

-I don't even know how to respond to that. Classes canceled?

\- For today. Hannah is coming by later with her boyfriend for that assignment.

She laughs at the wording. "Assignment" as in hacking into the police evidence logs. How did she get here? Taking one last drink, she stands to shower and dress. A million things sound better than sitting alone and drinking. The weight on her shoulders will have to surrender, she decides. Winters hasn't been nice since the letdown, and she knows the respect she held for her before can only be built back up one way: work.

Hannah comes by around two, not looking much better than Veronica. Her boyfriend Isaac walks in after her with a laptop and bag filled with cords. Veronica sits on the bed, not bothering to ask about the process because there are too many terms and steps to keep track.

"I broke through the-"

"Are you there?" She slides down to the floor to watch. Numbers flash across the screen as he types, slamming down on the final few keys. The screen fills with files and then goes white, a new database loading. Their eyes widen in sync as he pulls up a log, typing in Caroline's name, which prompts them to select from a list.

"Here we go, this is the log of everything they have stored for the case." He slides the laptop in front of Veronica, who sits cross-legged and begins to scroll.

"Holy crap, there's a lot here," she mutters, scanning the titles.

"Most of them are photos," Isaac chimes in. "Sometimes- like in this case- they're logged individually. Are they in alphabetical order at least?"

"Nope. The draino... the mug... okay- wait, I think I found something..."

Hannah furrows a brow while reading over her shoulder. "What do you need to see this for again?"

"Uh... is that important?"

They both turn and look at Veronica. "Do you know how illegal this is? What are you going to do?" Hannah asks nervously. Her blonde hair hangs down over her shoulders, stirring up pain in Veronica because of the resemblance to Caroline's.

"Relax, you guys don't need to do anything from here. Just let me look for a few minutes." She scrolls down and begins clicking through evidence. A paper without much other information catches her eye, and she pulls up the picture unknowing she'll wish that she didn't.

A typed document fills the majority of the screen. Several pages sit glaring at her, words that were typed with buried anger fueling each sentence fill the page, and the format and font could be recognized by any student at Bloomington.

"It's for the motion to reopen the case," Veronica says, her voice faint as her stomach turns with nausea. "Oh my god." She takes out her phone and snaps a picture of each page, panic rising more with each word she reads.

"Uh, what's wrong?" Isaac asks, adjusting his glasses. "Is something-"

"No, no, no, no, no, no. Everything's fine, thanks." She stands, jogs over to her bookbag, and fishes two fifty dollar bills out. "Here, this includes the payment for keeping your mouths shut." Thrusting the money at them, she cracks a strained smile.

Hannah and Isaac stand as Veronica urges them to leave, thanking them and giving nervous laughs and fake smiles if one of them turns around. Once both are gone, she collapses on the bed with a groan and texts JD.

\- it isn't good.

She sits up to call, beginning to pace around the room. "It's bad. This is bad. It has my name- Okay, so, she typed up something for the case, like a script for court talking about the motion to reopen the case."

"Okay, what does that have to do with you?"

"It talks about the interview but cut out everything but the basic questions. "...it has been brought to my attention that a classmate attended Westerburg high school. She was under investigation for the murder of Heather Chandler before getting in a near-fatal car crash and being diagnosed with retrograde amnesia." They have everything I said on record, I can't change the story just because of the amnesia. The party, the fight... it's all on here."

"That can't be enough to pin it on you. Just because you fight with somebody doesn't mean you're going to kill them."

"She talks about everything. She interviewed all of her family and somehow knows about my mental health... she's trying to prove I was faking the amnesia! I was in an "unstable state" after the crash to the point of needing restraints and was sent to a psychiatric ward for a day." She sucks in a breath before continuing. "She has... she holds evidence that proves "intentions based on a beginning strand of insanity that could have driven her to..."

"What the hell does- did- she have?"

"I don't know. This thing is long, she claims the evidence was tampered with because of the video footage missing... every reason, everything that points towards me is in here."

For the first time, Veronica begins to doubt she can escape this mess.

"It's a motive. Whoever killed Caroline put this in her pocket to make it look like I killed her so that I don't go to jail."

JD debates whether or not to tell her what he knows she doesn't want to hear. "Ronnie, you know how crazy money can make people. If she-"

"She didn't betray me," Veronica insists. "Someone did this. I don't know how she knows so much, but I'm going to get the paper out of evidence and destroy it." She slips her jacket on and grabs a purse. "And the money... what if someone paid her to do this to me? As you said, money makes people crazy."

"Maybe. The opposite. She'd still get credit for taking you down."

"Yeah. I'll call you later, I have to talk to Winters." Veronica shoves her phone in her purse and then runs to the classroom, waiting outside the door until the professor emerges and walks out. She's quick to catch up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and clearing her throat, demanding acknowledgment.

"Professor Winters, I was uh, wondering if I could have the first chair for the new case? I apologize for what happened last time, I didn't-"

"You're smart, Sawyer. Smart enough that you should know you don't get second chances."

"Yes. But, I already went over the details and I think the evidence was tampered with. How can it just be a coincidence that the body goes missing so soon after? The coroner knew the defendant, and I think we're dealing with something bigger." That stops Winters in her tracks. She blinks for a long moment, shifting the folders in her arm and turning to Veronica. "Everyone's shaken after the murder, and I'm volunteering-"

"I have plenty of students who would be willing to be first chair." She raises a brow, sighing in impatience.

"You pick students based on who you think would get a good learning opportunity, right? Well, based on what happened last time, I need to know how to push through my personal dilemmas and show up on time, along with not counting on other people to do my work for me, and-"

"Sawyer."

"Hmm?" Veronica looks up.

Winters hands her a pile of paperwork and folders. Then, she throws her a final look and walks away.

"Don't let me down."


	19. Pack Your Bags

"I got the case!" Veronica throws the door open without knocking, strutting inside and immediately going for a bottle of vodka.

"What case?" JD takes it from her before she can drink, resulting in her glare.

"I convinced Winters to let me have the first chair in the newest case. To make up for what happened last time. Can I drink now?" She pouts and folds her arms, looking up at him. Webs of red reside in her eyes, surrounding dilated pupils that prove one thing: she's high.

"Sit down. You don't need alcohol right now." He notices how much effort it takes her to walk straight. She seems to fall instead of sit, keeping one hand on the arm of the couch to steady herself. Not a drop of color remains in her face, but when's the last time she looked fully alive?

"I can see you judging me."

"I'm not judging you, I'm trying to figure out what the hell is going on with you."

"Grief," she hiccups, curling up with her head resting on the side of the couch, eyes already heavy. "We could... we could call it that." Only a moment does she stay like that before jumping to her feet, stumbling, and looking around. "Where's me-" she tries to slip her bag off only to realize she didn't bring it. How could she forget what the came for? What even is she here for? "S-Sorry."

He puts a hand on her arm to steady her. "What's going on?"

Her eyes narrow in a wince as her arm flies to her stomach, pressing against her abdomen. Her knees buckle, tears welling up but her pursed lips and clenched fists showing a determination to hold them back. Her teeth bite down on her tongue until the taste of copper fills her mouth.

"Hey, what's wrong? What-"

"I'm fine."

I can do this. One more day. It hurts so bad-

"I'm fine," she repeats. " I-I need to leave. I have t-to work."

Leave, you need more it hurts so bad one more day-

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asks as she gently detaches herself from his grasp.

"Yes," she replies with a strained smile. There will be an ache when they separate- there always is- but the promise of it being filled is enough motivation for Veronica to stumble downstairs. 

Days later and this has happened twice, but those aren't the only instances where Veronica forgot where she was or what she went to do. Delaying grief won't erase it nor lessen it's momentum when it does hit. But for now, Veronica lives in a bubble of euphoria when she isn't studying, and when it pops, her pain and breakdowns worsens. A few more months, she tells herself. Then she'll stop.

"Veronica?" Hannah knocks on the door, shifting her weight from foot to foot. "You missed class, again, Winters said to tell you that working on a case doesn't mean you get to choose when you show up. Can I come in?" She knocks again before stepping inside. The same thing as yesterday sits in front of her: Veronica curled up on the floor, this time in a pink dress and heels, surrounded by tissues and reeking of alcohol. She shakes her, a gentle nudge that turns into a desperate push when she doesn't stir.

"Veronica!" Panic begins to rise. What if this is the time? It usually takes two minutes maximum to awaken her. She has 911 on speed dial. Veronica opens her eyes, rubbing them as she adjusts to the light. Her hair looks like it hasn't been brushed in weeks, dark bags under her eyes despite doing barely anything but sleeping.

"Where... but I have a... huh?" She sits up and then tries to stand, draping an arm around Hannah for support. Her breath reeks of booze. Veronica stumbles into the bathroom and throws herself down to the floor, dry heaving before puking. Hannah ties her hair back and then goes to get her water. When she returns, the half-asleep brunette finishes dry-heaving and pulls herself to her feet.

"Ronnie, you need a doctor or something, this isn't-"

"I'm fine."

"You're throwing up blood, you might have a fever... come on, let's sober you up and then see how you feel." She leads her back into the bedroom and then walks into the kitchen. "Did you eat lunch?"

"I'm not hungry."

"Veronica-"

"I'm not hungry!" Tears rolling down her reddened face. "Just leave me alone."

Hannah sits down on the bed, a bit surprised by the outburst. "I'm sorry. But that's what you said last night, and you need to eat or-"

"Go away!" She screams it this time, backing away. "Leave. I'm fine, you don't need to babysit me. Everyone always tries to babysit me."

"Do you think we want to?" Hannah shouts, back on her feet. "Do you think I want to walk in on this every day? Do you think JD wants to have to worry about you every minute? Do you think Winters wants to not know if she can count on you?" 

"Then don't! I've been prepping for the case, I'm-"

"You've been high. You've been drunk or hangover or sleeping!" She begins to walk around the room, lifting things up and opening drawers. "Where are they? What kind of drugs are you using, because it's more than the occasional weed or acid? What are you using? If you don't think that it's cool then why? See, I never get an explanation because you're never thinking straight anymore."

"Stop! Stop, leave! You don't know me," Veronica sobs, head still throbbing and heavy.

"I'm not saying I do. But you're going to get hurt one day, or you're not going to wake up. You need help."

"Get out."

"I'm trying to help you!" Hannah pleads. "Before you get hurt or kicked out of school."

Veronica slams the door on her, panting, covered in sweat and shivering. She doesn't know what she's talking about. She doesn't know me. She doesn't care.

The next morning, she wakes up almost an hour past her alarm, resulting in an unmatching outfit and not a second thought of brushing her hair. She takes a few swallows of brandy and then runs out the door.

Wait. Where am I going? Why was my alarm set?

Her breathing speeds up, the hall and stairs spinning and people's voices becoming fainter and fainter before everything goes black.

***

"I told her that she was going to get hurt!"

Veronica awakens with a buzzing in her head as if a swarm of bees lingers out of sight. She sits up to see a cot beneath her, Hannah and a few students standing next to the nurse. Hannah holds a phone to her ear. Everything is out of focus, blurry shapes, and colors bumping into each other and moving around like an unfocused photograph. Who is she on the phone with?

"Veronica, you're awake. Do you know what happened?" The nurse asks her.

"Uh... I was standing at the top of the stairs and then passed out and fell?"

"A student passing by caught you before you fell all the way, but you still hit your head..." Her voice grows more distant until Veronica only catches certain words."Drugs... alcohol... risks..."

"I'm fine. Can I go?"

Hannah throws her a sad glance before staring at the floor. The nurse purses her lips and folds her hands.

"The dean would like to see you once you recover, as soon as possible."

There's an unspoken sentence at the end of her words, one that she knows is coming, one that makes her chest heavy. It lays in the air between all of them, bouncing off the sterilized counter and jars of cotton swabs and tile floor. Veronica doesn't need to hear it out loud.

Have your bags packed in twenty-four hours.


	20. Gone

"Veronica, please come in."

She stops tapping her foot and trudges into the office. Framed pictures line the walls and desk, which has been prepared with a chair in front of. It reminds Veronica of sitting in front of a judge, what she should be doing in a few days.

If they let her stay.

They both sit down. Veronica looks from the gleaming awards and degrees to fake plants to the dark blue eyes staring through her. The serious look makes her shift, and despite her efforts to stop, she begins to play with her hands again.

"First off, are you alright? I heard you took quite the fall this morning." He raises a brow and folds his hands behind his head.

"Yes sir, I'm fine. Am I getting kicked out?" She blurts without thinking. His expression doesn't change, prompting her nerves.

"We're here to discuss options, Ms. Sawyer. I don't just mean alright from the fall." He lets out a sigh and turns in his chair a bit, taking his hands down. "Are the drugs you've been using legal?"

"Yes. Some... expired, though," she answers honestly.

"And you do know of the no alcohol in dorms policy, yes? Though you're of legal age, that rule still stands. But I'm more concerned about your well-being, specifically if any of this has become an issue that requires further help."

"It isn't, sir."

"In all respect, Ms. Sawyer, you've passed out several times, found by peers under the influence to the point where your mental state is concerned about, you've been missing classes, and your grades have dropped. You still believe it has not become an issue?"

Tears well up in her eyes. Her phone keeps buzzing in her pocket but she ignores it. "I... there are side effects, and I'm trying to figure out a way that the things I'm going through won't affect my school work. I've been down with a cold these last few days, I'm actually working a case for Professor Winters to make up for missing class."

He purses his lips and Veronica begins to doubt he believes her. "Maybe extra work isn't what you need right now." He leans forwards, folding his arms on the desk. "You know, some students take a break for the rest of the semester- or year- and get themselves together, then go back the following one."

"I-"

"Parts of your room has been searched, and many bottles of painkillers were found, most expired, but one wasn't prescribed to you. Have you been selling or trading drugs with students?"

"I... I was out and I heard someone had it, I don't know where they got it, I learned about them at a party. I didn't give them drugs, they just wanted a bottle of booze."

"Was this student legally of age?" 

"Yes. I didn't give consent to search my room-"

He holds up a hand to stop her. "Then why couldn't he have bought his own alcohol?"

"I had a good kind. I don't know, it was convenient and it was all I had." She shifts, sniffling. "I know it isn't allowed-"

"Caroline's death has had an effect on all of us. A student tells me you were close friends with her. How have you been handling that?"

Veronica shrugs. "Same as everybody, I can't believe it happened. I hope they find whoever did it."

"Have you turned to drugs and alcohol to help you cope?" He raises a brow. It makes her feel small as if she shrunk at the presence of authority.

"Only a few times. They helped me forget. But I won't be turning to that anymore."

"Due to what has happened: the passing out, the worry you've caused, I recommend you take the rest of the semester off at least. You aren't on grounds of expulsion, but you will no longer be allowed housing-"

"I understand. I'll have my bags packed as soon as possible. I don't need the semester off, schoolwork is... it distracts me from negative things. Without it, I guarantee things will get worse. Please, I just need to graduate, I started school late due to an incident and I have no money."

"That isn't my decision, Ms. Sawyer. As I said, I'm not expelling you. But I will say this: your professors are always telling me how bright of a student you are, and you would make a great lawyer. But being one means you will be taking on other people's problems on top of dealing with your own. It takes someone very strong to do that. So make sure you're in a good place that will allow you to."

"Thank you sir, I will." They both stand, tears running down her cheeks that she tries to hide.

"Where do you plan on staying?"

"I don't know," she says so quietly her words are almost inaudible. "But thank you for the second chance."

He holds the door open for her. "I hope things get better for you, Veronica. I do."

She walks down the hall with a blank expression. Get better? One of the only things she has left has been taken from her, and she's dangerously close to losing the rest of it. Everything crumbles in front of her, towers of dreams and hope about to collapse. When the dust settles, where will she be?

Veronica classifies the moment she takes out her suitcase to pack under a mental file labeled "worst moments of my life." It marks the day she let herself and her family down. She thought she had nothing left to lose, that Caroline would be the end of that list. But now, ripping clothes from hangers and only packing what she needs, she realizes how much she didn't count that should have filled up the empty space. A place to live, a school that would help her get a job- something that will be harder now that she's homeless- and people that gave a damn about her.

What would her mother say? She should call her, but what would she say? That she got kicked out because of her self-hatred? Because she's broken and was under a spell telling her there was hope?

When she takes her phone out, blurry names flood the screen. Hannah and JD texted her several times, and JD tried to call her several more. She calls back while holding up dresses and going through books.

"Hey."

"Ronnie, what's going on?"

"Nothing. I fell, that's all." She texts Hannah the outcome of her visit to the dean and then goes back to the call. "I passed out, but I'm okay."

"That isn't what I'm hearing. You didn't say that things were this bad."

She sniffles, lips quivering and eyes puffy and red. "I didn't know they were this bad. I didn't know any of this would happen... I didn't think of the consequences. That's my fault." She chokes on a rising sob. "This is all my fault."

"Veronica, you can't-"

"Anyways, we still need to get the letter. The money's in a storage locker, it would be stupid to keep it in the dorm."

She doesn't hear his response. Her thoughts have become a tornado of panic, one overpowering her senses. She'll have to give up her phone at some point. And sell her laptop. Maybe she could sell clothes that don't fit her anymore.

"Ronnie?"

"Hmm? Yeah, I'm here." But she isn't. Maybe she could drop out and get some of her money back. Still, that would only last her so long. She would have more time to work, but when employers find out how much of a mess she is, they'll turn their heads in a hurry. She'll have to numb herself to get through this. The fear is too much.

She hangs up without saying goodbye and continues to pack. Despite the twenty-four hours she has, she finishes that night and walks outside with nowhere in mind and ends up curled into a ball on a bench outside the school, staring at nothing and letting the breeze slice through her. Nothing fazes her or brings her gaze from where they rest.

She's almost asleep when someone sits down next to her.

"Hmmm?"

"You weren't answering your phone."

She sits up and looks from JD to the sky, now dark and cloudless. "It's off. Trying to conserve battery."

He takes her hand as she closes her eyes again. For a minute they just sit there, the pain ineffable, her thoughts and fear beyond comfort. This time she doesn't hope that someone will come and help her, offer her money or a place to stay because by now she's realized that hope is what hurts you. Fake promises and wishing based on something that will never be met is what destroys you from the inside out. Hope is the worst form of denial.

So for now, she doesn't try to think of a plan. She sits there with the wind blowing through her hair, gripping his hand for all that it's worth and pretending that it's all okay.

As if she didn't lose everything.


	21. A Second Chance

"Did anyone ever tell you that you're stubborn?"

"You. About a hundred times."

"Well, I'm saying it again. Get in the car."

Veronica glares but obeys, following JD to the car and sliding into the passenger seat. "I'm sorry." She drums her fingers against her jeans, staring out the window. She counts all the stars she can see to keep her tears at bay. "I don't like relying on people."

"You might have to for a while. Look, you don't take breaks, Veronica. But if time out of school-"

Her words to the dean race back to her. It had been true, a break would make her feel worse. "No. Take a break and what, live on someone's couch knowing I'm worthless? Have nothing to do but drink and hate myself?"

"No. To get yourself together, get help, and make enough money to pay your own rent."

"I don't-" she presses her lips together, losing her fight against tears. "I don't need help, I know what I'm doing and I'm going to stop. And I don't have money for that."

"Veronica..." he pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out a heavy breath that makes Veronica wince. "One of the hardest parts of this is admitting that you're struggling."

"I'm struggling," she says flatly. "But I told you I'm going to stop."

He laughs and shakes his head. "What about the time in between now and then? You don't think it's going to get ten times harder to stop in the time you're trying to do it alone? Saying that you're going to quit and doing it are two different things."

"Why would I let myself get worse when I know that I'll get kicked out of school?"

"You don't let yourself do anything! You're not always in control by now, and you lose more and more every day. I know that you don't want to hear that, but it's going to get worse unless-"

"I can't!" She exclaims, letting out a sob. She instantly regrets her words since she can't explain. As much as she would like to let him help, to let somebody help, it would ruin everything she's worked towards. She told herself she would stop a while ago, but shackled to her secret, it felt required. She hated herself for all of it. Soon she'll have reached her goal and be able to quit. But what if he's right? What if she can't by then?

He looks at her as they park. "Why? Why are you doing this to yourself?"

She stares helplessly before getting out of the car, the words hanging between them under the blanket of silence. Once they're inside, she walks over to the window and stares at the sky.

"You eat dinner?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." She sits on the couch and takes out her laptop. Might as well try to work on the case. "Hey, maybe we could go somewhere tomorrow. The-"

"Veronica." His irritated undertone startles her. She raises a brow and stands. "This isn't a casual visit. People are trying to help you but you need to let us. Pretending everything is okay, pretending that you're put-together and that you have everything under control isn't going to do anything but make it ten times harder for everybody."

"I'm terrified."

His expression changes at her words. "What?"

Veronica takes a step forward and stuffs her hands in the pocket of her hoodie with a shrug. "I'm scared. I don't know what else to do. I should call my parents, but I doubt my mom will help me. I didn't get a chance to see my dad. Even if they agree to help, how? I can't take an airplane to school every day."

"You might not get a place to stay, but maybe they'll give you money or mail food or something."

"Or call me once in a while." She cracks a small smile. The tragedy is written all over her face, loneliness behind her eyes and pain seeping into her half-hearted smile. "Look. This isn't your mess, nor is it Hannah's, or my parents'. I know why you're trying to help me." She takes another step closer.

"You're trying to take care of me like you would've after the crash, right? It's like a second chance. That's how I used to think of it. I can't remember what we had but I like to think it was good. You don't need to try and make up for what happened, I don't need that. I just want someone to heal with."

He looks at her for a long moment. Her expression has softened as if she's asking permission for the veil of the past to be lifted, for the shadow of the crash to be destroyed, leaving them raw and renewed and together without the weight. She wants to stop looking at tragedy as a separation but as something they're on the same side of. They can't heal each other, but they can heal together.

Veronica throws him one last smile while pulling her hoodie up and taking the key to the storage unit out of her pocket.

"I bet the office is still open."

***

"Alright, Elle Woods."

Veronica flips him off in response. "Meet me right here. Women like to talk, so it may take a minute." She walks up to the office and walks inside the dimly-lit room, where a woman sits behind the counter. One hand props her chin upon her hand, and she skims papers out of boredom. When Veronica approaches she looks up.

"Can I help you?"

"I love your lipstick, I used to wear the color every day," Veronica says, keeping the bag hidden by her side. "Nightshift, huh?"

"I'm used to it. What do you need?" She raises a brow and studies Veronica's face.

The bag plops down on the table. Veronica leans in and folds her arms as if it's a meeting she's engrossed in. "There are a couple hundred thousand dollars in this bag. You have kids?"

The woman furrows a brow, but Veronica whispers 'score' in her mind the moment she sees something change in her face. 

"I do, why?"

"Think about them. What you could do for them with this. Help with college, finish paying off your car..." she leans back with one hand on the bag. Contemplation and curiosity dance across the woman's eyes.

"What do you want?" She says finally.

"I need this letter from the Caroline Washington case." Veronica holds up her phone and shows a picture of the motion. She's young enough to give in, she decides.

"You're aware that it's still open-"

"I am. Get me the letter." She smiles as the woman stands, drumming her fingers against the strap of the bag. When she walks away, Veronica looks around, making sure not to look in the corners of the room in fear of a camera catching her face. She readjusts her hoodie and shifts her weight from foot to foot. Though the bribe makes her audacious, she prays it will be worth it. Memories of the day's events fill the waiting time.

The woman returns with a labeled plastic bag, the paper visible inside of it. Veronica unzips the duffle partway to prove the money is there, and earning a nod, makes the trade.

A couple hundred thousand dollars? No. Enough to make it look like the bag is full? Yes.

Veronica stuffs it into her jacket and walks out to the car.

"And Elle Woods returns," JD announces as she slides into the seat.

"Shut up and drive," she laughs, pulling the letter out of her shirt. "Do you think they'll notice it's gone?"

He shrugs in the darkness. "If they have it mentioned anywhere else then maybe. But as long as they don't connect you to this you should be okay."

It feels weirdly good to do something so illegal, to take a risk she isn't forced into for once.

She rests her head against the window and lets her eyes close. The night presents quiet and soothing tranquility. Forcing thoughts of worry from her mind, she allows the blanket of stillness to wash over and carry her away.

When she washes back up on the shore of reality, it awakens her with a gentle nudge and blast of cold air. Trudging inside half-asleep, she flops down on the couch and is drifting again in minutes.

***

Bright light floods in through the window. No classes today, she remembers. Despite the time, a missed call from Hannah pops up on her phone as she rubs her eyes and rolls onto her side.

"Hello?" She says, still groggy from sleep.

"Hey, how are you?" Hannah sounds wide awake.

"As good as good can get right now. What's up?"

"Isaac, my friend Mikayla and I have a place about twenty minutes from Bloomington. You can stay as long as you want, we split up the rent, but of course, right now we don't expect you to pay. But-"

"Thank you." Veronica can't contain a sigh of relief. "I'll come over tonight, send me an address." Suddenly, her problems don't seem like the end of the world. It won't work long-term, but until she can pay her own rent, an invitation is an invitation.

When she arrives at the house, the first thing she notices is the bed of flowers in the front. Hannah stands in the doorway wearing a small smile.

"It's therapeutic," she explains, leading Veronica inside. Dark floorboard complement white walls and stairway railing, a couch of cracked leather not matching the white coffee table or light purple curtains. Everything looks either used or thrifted. While Hannah rants about how much she and Mikayla will like each other, Veronica studies diamond-rimmed mirrors and strings of Polaroid pictures as they walk into the dining room. A large clock sits on the right wall over the table, which holds a blanket of clutter.

"Your bedroom's upstairs and to the left." Hannah gestures to the stairs. Veronica climbs up and nudges the door open.

A floral bedspread jumps out at her, vibrant pinks and blues swirling together in an ocean of patterns and petals. A wooden chair sits under the window, the closet doors mirrors. Other than that, the room is ready for Veronica's own touches.

That night, Mikayla brings pizza on her way home from work and they sit and study with the TV on, occasionally laughing or talking about random ideas.

Veronica tries and fails to sleep, and when she finally does drift off, Hannah is awakened by her screams.

"You okay?"

"Yeah!"

She hears the door close and figuring she went to the bathroom or something, closes her eyes again. But no one in the house will sleep tonight.

The room feels empty without Veronica in it; her absence almost louder than her presence. JD gets the phone call around two in the morning.

"This is Hannah. I- she- water and I don't know if-"

"What? Slow down."

Hannah sucks in a breath, voice still wobbling.

"Veronica overdosed."


	22. The Taste Of Death

"I d-don't know w-what- she water was r-running and I c-couldn't... she looked dead!"

"Calm down, she'll be okay."

Pacing. Why do we do it when we don't know what to feel? Is it that we physically want to escape but can't? Or that we don't know what to feel and the depths of the emotions are a whirlpool we can't find our way out of? Why is Veronica in the hospital again? Disbelief tugs at reality, altering thoughts of what really happened. Hannah struggles to sit still, throwing JD worried looks every few minutes and tapping her foot against the tile.

She isn't supposed to be in the hospital, she isn't supposed to be in the same position as a few years ago. This isn't the crash. But the heaviness on his chest replicates that day. Almost an hour later, screams echo from the hallway. JD winces, Hannah bites her lip.

"Do you think it was an accident?" She asks quietly. "She would have left something, right? Or said something?"

He doesn't answer, continuing to stare straight ahead. But that question replays in his mind like a broken record. Wouldn't she say something? Hannah stands and mumbles something about Isaac calling. A minute after she walks outside a nurse walks up.

"She's out, we had to sedate her after she started panicking." She motions for him to follow.

"Yeah, hospitals aren't... a good thing to wake up in." He walks into a smaller room, greeted by a beeping heart monitor. Veronica isn't covered in bruises or bandages, she doesn't have broken bones and there aren't shards of glass from the windshield sticking out her skin. But it's impossible not to expect that when seeing her in a hospital bed, pale and thin and unconscious.

He sits down, holding her hand and watching her steady breathing, scared that it will stop if he looks away. The sheets have been pulled up to her chest, paperlike from their texture to their color and swallowing her up in white. Machines, monitors- it all is intricate and bland at once, clean and overwhelmingly blank.

Humans need color. They need to see life. Hospitals with their shining white walls and alcoholic stench are a reminder that you need to be here, that you aren't where everyone else is because you're broken. Veronica doesn't open her eyes but can feel someone holding her hand, hear a soft beeping that may be a part of the vibrating.

"Winter dawn is the color of metal," she says, chapped lips curling into a weak smile. "Sylvia Plath said that, right?"

"What? Ronnie-"

"Why do you sound sad? Be empty with me." Her voice now is almost a giggle. "I'm so empty. It's all gone." She shifts, not seeing his look of horror and letting her head tilt to the side. "You know, I almost reached eternity. It was so dark, I was spinning and then I was there."

"Veronica, do you remember what happened?"

She giggles and tightens her grip on his hand, pulling him towards her and moving over. "Come here." He lays down and lets her rest her head on his shoulder, curling up smaller. "It's peaceful. Hold me."

It isn't until he wraps an arm around her waist that he realizes how thin she is. Her hand is almost as pale as she sheets. It's useless to try and get answers out of her while she's out of it, he decides, playing with her hair since it seems to calm her. After a minute he thinks she fell asleep but looks down to see that her eyes are open.

"I tasted death." She looks up as if she'd said something as casual as the sky is blue. He doesn't know how to respond so he doesn't.

But he doesn't know the scariest part, that it isn't the drugs speaking, it isn't intoxication or panic. Because she did taste death. The feeling you get when you know you're about to cry, standing in front of a dead person at a funeral when your throat closes up and you seem to be burning from the inside out. When you realize you're about to be gone, that you'll never hear your favorite song or read your favorite book again. No more watching sunsets, crying over poetry, or reading next to steaming mugs of coffee. Everything we run from: the coldness after not being in someone's embrace for months, knowing you don't have anything left but yourself, it's what she realized was about to happen.

The pain lasted an eternity. Not a glimpse of what she believes is true eternity, the spinning and darkness, but when the thing keeping you alive is knowing the pain will stop even though it seems neverending. Throbbing in her chest, burning in her throat.

She wasn't content with her life; she wouldn't be in death. Minutes after that thought crossed she lost consciousness. The last thing she felt was fear.

Veronica drifts in and out of sleep. When she awakens fully, that same fear comes back.

"No. No, no, no, help me-"

"Hey, look at me and breathe, alright? This isn't the crash."

She presses herself against the bed, hands shaking, planning an escape. Someone would see her run out of the hospital... she looks down at the IV in her arm and starts to tug at it. Spots of blood lay under what almost looks like tape. The drugs fighting to pull her under again, the world spins, buzzing in her ears and lowering the volume of her surroundings.

She starts to scratch herself, trying to stay awake. Another voice fades in and out. Beeping. Darkness. Inability to ground herself.

"Veronica, breathe." He pulls her hand away from her arm to keep her from scratching herself. Red welts form where her nails raked against her skin. She whimpers, squeezing her eyes shut and burying her face in his shirt. His hand on her back brings what she always finds with him: stability.

"I want out. Tell them I can go. I'm fine!"

"You need to rest. Try to relax."

"I have a case for Winters in a few days-" She cuts him off before he can protest. "I need to do this. She already thinks I'm lazy, and I've done so much prep work."

"You don't sacrifice your health for someone's respect," he says. "There are going to be tons of cases for you, and I'm sure she'll understand."

Tears brim in Veronica's eyes. "She won't! I'll get kicked out of school if people find out." She doesn't realize she yelled it until the words leave a ringing in her ears. "Sorry. I'm sorry, don't leave."

"I'm not." He squeezes her hand under the blanket. "This isn't the crash, you still have your memories, you still have everything."

But everything is too loud and too much and too big. The equipment and stench of rubbing alcohol seem to swallow her up, icy water of trauma and pain filling her lungs. It drips from the ceiling; bleeds from the sheets and floor.

Everywhere she looks, the crash stares back.

Her eyes open, though she never noticed she had been squeezing them shut, breathing slowing down and panic receding. She tries to focus on the feeling of their hands pressed together, the rise and fall of her chest, and their synced heartbeats.

"You should sleep," he whispers, rubbing her back with his other hand. She shakes her head.

"That's all I've done," she yawns. "I'm bored."

He laughs before the humor drains and is replaced with the worry she saw earlier. "Did you- what happened?"

"What do you mean? I'm laying in a hospital bed, I'm pretty sure it's obvious what happened."

"I mean... why?" It comes out quieter than he meant, but the words won't form and he can't manage them any louder.

"Why- What? What?! It was an accident! I-I took too much and-"

"Okay, I believe you. Hannah said the water was running-"

"In case this happened," she sobs. "Then someone would find me. I used more than I should have, but it doesn't work the same anymore."

"Why are you doing it?"

She turns around and starts to cry harder, keeping her back to him and burying her head in the pillow.

"Ronnie, this has gone way too far. Why are you doing this to yourself?" Again, she doesn't respond. He sighs and puts a hand on her shoulder, trying to roll her over.

"Leave."

"What?"

"Stop, just leave." She turns around the second the words are out. "No, sorry, I'm sorry-"

"It's okay. Hannah and I are worried about you- hell, everyone is. We want to help, but you have to tell us what's going on."

"I can't."

"Why?"

"I just can't!" Those words repeat in her mind. The amount of shame weighing on her holds the truth back. Admitting the problem would bring on a great deal more of the pain, and she fears how he would react.

"Do you think Hannah will let me live there again?" She asks, desperate to change the subject.

"I don't know, most likely."

"Do you think I'll still win the case?" A small smile tugs at her lips.

"They'd be stupid not to let you try."

She grins and looks from him to the band on her wrist, a pink tint to her cheeks fighting against the pale.

"The motion to reopen the Chandler case... it's going to court soon. A few clinic members put one together. Caroline's death delayed it. If it gets reopened..."

"We're screwed big time."

"Yup." She leans back and closes her eyes. Hannah may not let her back at the house. The Chandler case may be reopened. Someone may find out the truth. But for one moment, she sits in the darkness and lets things be alright.


	23. The Missing Piece

Veronica's panic turns to boredom as the hours go by. Her energy level goes up as the drugs wear off, a hum escaping her lips. She swings an arm idly over the side of the bed, tempted to skip around or rip the IV out and jump on the bed.

Hannah came by, but the conversation lasted a mere five minutes, most of it being awkward silence and fidgeting. She and JD went back to the waiting room when a woman came by to explain options for addicts, saying how she should consider the programs. Despite not believing it's an addiction, Veronica took the pamphlets and forced a smile.

"NA, AA, CA... what's the difference!? I-I don't know, I don't need this anyway!" she groans and throws herself backward.

"Calm down, I know it's overwhelming."

"And don't leave again, I almost died of boredom." She rolls onto her side, face going serious for the first time. "Do you think I need it?"

"I think if you want to stay in school, some more support won't hurt you."

She sighs. "That's a yes. Look... I'll go. I don't have anything else, I need to help people."

A young nurse walks into the room, opening her mouth to speak. Veronica hops off the bed, and she takes the IV out with a grin the second her feet hit the floor. The nurse insists on making sure she's stable, but she skips out of the room when they let her go.

"Woah, I- dizzy." She leans against him while stumbling to the car. Her smile doesn't leave when they walk back to his apartment, the joy of being out of the building overpowering the anxiety.

She can't ignore the courage blossoming from the drop of death she'd tasted. Everything went on rewind in those moments: her childhood, every feeling that she doesn't want to forget and the ones that she does. Her future burned; past disintegrated.

It can all be gone too fast to not take a chance. Opportunity only knocks once and the good things don't wait to be enjoyed before vanishing. Life is irreplaceable.

"I should talk to Hannah, maybe be doing these stupid meetings will convince her to let me stay." She sighs and watches her finger hover over the call button, setting the phone down but not turning the screen off. "Want to go to the beach later?" She asks, looking up.

***

Why Veronica wanted to go at night remains a mystery at their arrival. Her fascination with the ocean is a deeper one. Buried wanderlust? The longing for something more that may destroy her in the end? The night chill combined with the crisp oceanic breeze sends ignored chills down her arms and back. A seemingly neverending field of shimmering darkness that captures her with one glance.

A smile tugs at her lips as they walk down. Her hair blows around her face, chocolate brown curls framing her face and brushing her shoulders, not a drop of makeup around her wide curious eyes or parted lips. Chills race up every inch of exposed skin when the water reaches her lower back, a small gasp leaving her from the shock. JD laughs at her reaction.

The cold soaks into her skin, now holding a porcelain glow from the moonlight like crystals lie under the surface. Blanketed in the glow, her bare glory, and raw beauty. Approaching death threw her into a pool of appreciation for life, courage blooming from the knowledge. She's come to realize hope isn't the enemy but a balm for a heart of devastation.

It doesn't leave once entering your veins. Heartbreak sends everything you know splintering and bleeding, no known cure but time. She's starting from the bottom again, struggling to build everything back up. What if it isn't how small the pieces are that makes it a struggle, but that she tried using the wrong ones? What if something else belongs?

Something she keeps telling herself she can't have. But is that true? Would it kill her to have it for a second? The moment would be dangerous as any good one is, it makes you want it for eternity and tears you open when ripped away. Blood has been shed already. What's one more drop?

Without realizing her movement, their lips connect.

She doesn't know if they ruined everything or finally grasped what would fix them, but the cold washes away, a fiery warmth in her chest and desire pulsing beneath her skin.

The same fire that wakes her up at night, racing through her chest, sending her body reacting to a nonexistent presence. His hand against her back sends a chill through her. Almost electric, it sends her reeling and spinning, suddenly floating instead of in the water.

How fast she gives in sends waves of a different emotion: fear. Everything telling her to fight against this crumbles with her walls, her will, her reason. She had been wrong about this making her helpless. One-touch is enough to do that.

Her arms around his neck, their bare skin pressed together to bring her back down. When did they get this close?

Veronica lets out a breath, almost panting, and looks from the distance to him. The drops of water on her stomach and arms send her shivering once again. The warmth from their bodies pressed together isn't enough anymore. Their faces can't be this close without giving in.

The second kiss sweeps her off her feet as much as the first, but this time she keeps herself planted, aware of where her hands are, knowing how far apart they stand. Bliss washes over in phases, a new type of euphoria that the drugs didn't give her- that nothing else has ever given her. When they break apart she can barely stand and almost falls forwards. His arm around her waist keeps her dangerously close. Their breaths fall into sync, lips inches apart but neither moving in again.

"Woah."

He laughs and brings her closer. Droplets of water weight the edges of her hair down, face pale from the cold but her smile sending pink to her cheeks.

They get out before freezing to death, throwing away plans of walking down the beach after not being able to feel their hands. Veronica remains deep in thought as they drive back.

Did she just ruin things? Was it stupid to let her guard down? She picks a few things up from Hannah's. They need a night together after everything, one that isn't brought on by tragedy. Upon their arrival, she finds it hard to keep her distance, as if she physically needs someone close to her again.

Neither knows what to say, so neither speaks. What are we? She wonders. Friends? No, friends don't crave another kiss, friends don't relive the one they got until it drives them insane. But they aren't lovers.

Veronica changes into pajamas, subconsciously picking the laciest one she owns. They say a soft goodnight, but she turns on the tv and flips through the channels for the next half hour.

This feels wrong. How does he expect her to act as things are normal after that? With the unspoken promise of a sleepless night looming, she gives up and walks down the hall.

"Hey." She nudges the door open and leans against the wall. He's still up, scrolling something on his phone with the bedside lamp on. He looks up when she takes another step forward. "Can I lay with you?"

He sets the phone down and nods. She hastily slides into bed next to him.

"Do you still get nightmares about it?" She asks. They've moved close to each other, still yearning to be closer.

"Sometimes. It used to be every night. You being back helps."

Veronica looks around, debating if she should press it. He can tell she is and wraps an arm around her waist, her eyes never leaving his.

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

She shrugs. "I want to know about you."

"What do you want to know?"

"Everything." She laces their fingers together in between them. Looking into her eyes, suddenly she's seventeen again. The way she bites her lip doesn't help. Kissing her for the first time in years brought something back, whether it be the color or the life that left with her or the comfort knowing she's close brings. It gave them a taste of the past she longs to remember and a glimpse of what could be.

She moves closer, resting her head on the pillow but keeping her eyes on him before sitting up again.

"I mean, I grew up normal, went to school like any other kid." He shrugs, laughing when she squints at him as if unconvinced.

"There's something else. I'm the one with the mystery past."

"Let's see... I've been to over ten high schools, I feel like I've seen most of the country and it all feels like the same damn thing, my mom died in Texas, I went to Westerburg and met you."

"And your life went downhill from there," she sighs.

"That's not true and you know it."

The genuine look in his eye keeps her from arguing. "What was I like before the crash?"

"What do you mean?"

"What was I like? Was I different? Better?"

"Ronnie, you can't compare yourself like that. You're still you but now you're older."

"And smarter? And prettier?" She giggles and rolls onto her back, staring at the ceiling and placing their hands over her heart.

He rolls his eyes and watches a contagious smile spread across her face. Somehow they end up looking into each other's eyes in silence for the next few minutes, cheeks pink from smiling and being so close.

The hell is this, a Disney movie?

The thing she has been postponing and dreading wipes the smile off her face. She stares at their hands, wondering if when she tells him the admiration in his eyes will turn to disgust and disappointment.

He notices the change in her expression. After a moment she sits up, letting go of his hand and looking around.

"So, Uh... What do you think will happen with the Chandler stuff? I have dreams sometimes, about us getting caught. Do you think I'll do good on the Uh, case?" She forces a smile. "I've been preparing-"

"Veronica."

She tenses. He can see it, through the mask. The pain she's trying too hard to hide stands out.

It's weird, she decides, having someone know you when you don't know yourself.

"Sorry." She moves to the edge of the bed, staring at nothing and playing with her hands.

"Hey, what's-" when he puts a hand on her arm to make her look at him, tears roll down her cheeks.

"You were right. I wasn't using the pills for pain- I was, but not only for that. You know how a side effect is weight loss? Well..."

"Why would you do that?"

She looks up at him. "I'm bulimic."

The second the words are out she tries to walk away, but he turns her back around.

"I know it hurts, and this stuff is hard to admit, but I need you to talk to me." He has her sit back down, where she stares at her lap as if the answers are written there. Why the hell would she do this to herself?

"After the crash, I hated myself. My body, my life. I thought maybe being ugly, and in my opinion, fat was the reason everything was so bad and why you left. So I... used the medication even when I didn't need it. I lost a lot of weight... and I fell back into it a few weeks ago." She struggles not to sob.

"I made a diet. I can eat every four days and I use the painkillers to help with the hunger pangs. It's why I kept passing out. If I eat on a day I'm not supposed to, I purge it and then add another day to those until I can eat."

He exhales deeply and rests his head in his hand. "You're going to kill yourself doing that, Veronica."

"I know... it was a release, and it was worse back then..." she debates if she should continue. Why is she admitting all this? "There would be consequences if I didn't stick to the 'diet."

"What do you mean?" He rubs the bridge of his nose.

"You're going to hate me for this."

"I'm not going to- oh my god, what-"

She drops the corner of her shirt that she had pulled up enough to reveal several angry burns, some small and others larger. The pain caused her to lift the lighter constantly, trembling, and as a result, the marks form constellations, some dark specks, and others full oval-shaped burns.

He pulls her into a hug while she cries. She needs to get the pain out in order to start healing. When she calms down enough to talk, they get back in bed and curl up, his arm around her waist again, holding her close with the blankets wrapped around them like a shell of warmth.

"It was so stupid," she whispers. "I went back to this because of nightmares that I looked like I did back then, it's stupid-" She turns around and snuggles into his chest.

"Hey, stop. I know you don't believe it right now, but you're beautiful. You're destroying yourself when you don't need to, and you need help."

"I know. I just thought that if I didn't look better-"

then you wouldn't love me.

"I don't know. Never mind." She closes her eyes and lets the world fade to black, trying to pretend Caroline isn't dead, that she doesn't have to go to a trial that may determine if she gets thrown in jail, and that today won't be the last day she gets to kiss the boy next to her.

Is she greedy for wanting that feeling again? Considering the circumstances, maybe. But for once she doesn't care.

***

Awakening with a yawn, she rolls over and smiles. The spot next to her is empty, sheets cool against her warm skin. Sunlight pours through the window, bouncing off the TV and casting a golden glow over the floor. She stands and walks into the kitchen.

"Look who's alive." Her eyes meet with JD's, the smile still playing at her lips and spreading to her cheeks.

"Can we... just have a chill day? I don't have classes."

He puts a hand on her back as she leans against him. It's been too long since they touched, since they were close.

"You need to eat, Veronica."

She tries to pull away, but when he draws her back she goes limp. Unfortunately, she knows he won't let it slide. If she's going to break the cycle, it's going to be here.

"Fine."

You're going to ruin everything. He isn't going to love you, you know.

She goes to get blankets, opening the hallway closet and scanning the shelves. A box with her initials catches her eye. Out of pure curiosity, she takes it down and opens it.

A diary. Photos. Jewelry. Notes are written in pencil, some folded. A hospital wristband. Pictures from an ultrasound.

She picks up the photo that had been flipped over, the date of the crash written on the back. Forcing her feet to move, she walks back into the living room.

"Who is this? Wait... is that me?" She points to the unconscious girl in a hospital bed, clutching a baby wrapped in a light pink blanket. A white bandage wraps around her head, others on her arms, IVs attached to both arms. "Why- who's baby is that?"

He blinks for a long moment and exhales. This isn't what she needs. She was going to find out at some point though.

"JD. Who's baby is that? What's going on?" She looks from him to the photo in confusion. The answer drains the air from her lungs as she puts the pieces together without a word. "Oh. I... oh my god. Wait, but then where's my baby?"

When he winces she takes a step back.

"Tell me. Where? Where is she?" She demands, assuming the gender merely from the color of the blanket. "Where...?"

He puts a hand on her arm and tries to make her sit, but she pushes it away. "Veronica..."

"No. No! You're lying to me. Tell me right now that you're lying. Look me in the eye and say it!" At this point, her words are almost screamed. She prays with everything that he is lying, that this is a mean joke. "No."

"I'm not lying. This wasn't your fault." He rest of his words are muffled, distant.

That word repeats in her mind like a broken record player. No. No. No. I'm dreaming. No. Wake me up. No.

Veronica lets the photo fall from her hand and float to the floor. She looks from his concerned expression to her stomach to the window.

No.

Then she collapses on the floor and screams.


	24. A Lie Within A Lie

DISCLAIMER: I understand this is not how it actually works. They would have to have several trials before this one, up to four days. But this is fiction.

"Veronica-"

"I trusted you. I loved you, dammit!" She stands and paces, eyes watering again. "I thought maybe I wouldn't get hurt for once because I don't know how it's possible for me to hurt anymore. But you've managed," she says with a weak laugh.

"What is this?"

"Read it!" She snaps. "And don't try to tell me you didn't sign it."

He rubs the bridge of his nose and reads it over before tossing it back down. "Veronica, sit down. I don't know what-"

"You know what it is! You signed it," she sobs. "You signed it."

"I didn't sign this. Look at me." He grabs her by the shoulders, their eyes meeting. Tears fall down her face faster. She looks broken, a begging glint in her eye, a longing for things to be alright, and for all the tragedy to vanish so that they can be together and free from the shackles of pain. "I don't understand it either, but I didn't sign those. Neither of us signed, meaning someone else did."

She lets out another sob, offering a weak nod. He cups her cheek with his hand, tilting her head up slightly. "The one thing I never want to do again is hurt you. I wouldn't have told you otherwise if I'd known about this, alright?" 

She nods again, pressing her lips together and putting a hand over his. "W-while I was unconscious someone forged our signatures," she mumbles, surprised at how distant and rough her voice sounds. "Who?"

"I don't know. We'll figure it out."

They've subconsciously moved closer. She lowers their hands but keeps her grip, looking up at him. "Court's tomorrow."

He rests his hand on her lower back. "You nervous?"

"I'm terrified," she laughs. Their lips are inches apart. Fear causes her features to fall a bit, a nervous gleam in her eye. She lets go of his hand and puts hers on his arm, both of his around her waist. "What if this is the end? What if they start investigating everyone from-"

"Shhh. This isn't the end." His lips graze her cheek.

But her panic continues to rise. "What if they've already started investigating?! What if they've narrowed it down to us or they found something and they're waiting to arrest us? What if this is the last time we see each other?"

"This isn't the end."

Their lips meet. Thoughts of tomorrow leave her; the looming anxiety flees briefly as she leans in and focuses on soft skin and warm lips. When they break off she's breathless as usual.

"You don't... you don't know what's going to happen tomorrow. What if I'm, right, JD? What if-"

He kisses her again, a hand in her hair and the other on her hip. "Shut up. Whatever happens tomorrow, we can deal with tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," she repeats when she breaks off, still a bit out of breath. Letting herself relax, she moves closer and sinks into the touch. The next kiss is deeper, and when she opens her eyes her arms are around his neck and their bodies are pressed together.

She gently removes his hands from her hips and takes a step back. "Uh, could we... not... do anything?" Her muscles have tensed again, a knot of fear in her chest. "Sorry, it just..."

"We don't have to."

"Just... kiss me." She steps closer again. They end up on the couch, quick kisses turning into an eager make out session. After a while, they turn the Tv on.

"I don't want to go tomorrow," Veronica groans. "Maybe I'll get a miracle fever by tomorrow morning." She rolls onto her stomach, resting her head on his chest. "Promise me something."

"I can't promise you anything right now, Ronnie." He runs his thumb over her cheek, tucking hair behind her ear.

"Promise me that whatever happens tomorrow... we won't lose each other again."

This entire conversation means walking on eggshells. Nothing can be guaranteed as of right now. Tomorrow determines the next few months of their lives- and possibly the rest of them.

"I promise."

***

"Oh no, I'm sick, what a shame-"

"Veronica, did you seriously put lipstick under your eyes?"

"I'm sick!" She leans over and throws up again, slumping down against the bathtub. "Fine, I'm not sick."

"Nerves?"

"Understatement." She groans, stands, and rinses her mouth. "I'm telling you, my body doesn't like food." They walk back to the living room. When he eyes her she glares back. "I didn't do it on purpose. It's too much, I..." she trails off and gulps.

Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow. It's all she can think about. She glances at the papers on the table- another thing occupying her mind. Adoption papers. Ones that they didn't sign. But when she picks them up, their names scribbled in a similar sloppy font stare back at her. Rage boils beneath her skin.

"My parents," she says suddenly. An arm wraps around her.

"What?"

"What if they did it? They were the only ones at the hospital while I was unconscious..." she turns and sighs, leaning on him and hiding her face. The thought of her own parents doing something like this widens the tear in her heart. "I should call them. But not right now, I... need to prep for the case."

They spend the rest of the day and night in an anxious haze, receiving comfort only by each other's touch. Both half-asleep, the hours pass too fast for her liking. Soon they'll be walking into a courtroom to watch a case that could shatter their lives to bits. She forces her eyes open and looks up at him.

She finally has something. Something she doesn't want to lose, a place she doesn't want to leave. Too good to be true, she thinks bitterly. Laying there in his arms, the TV low enough not to dominate the atmosphere, she thinks about Caroline, about Peggy, about her parents. Everything connects somehow.

Too tired and scared to think about it, she kisses him one last time and drifts off to sleep.

***

"I'm too tired to look nice."

"I second that."

Baby blue and cotton candy pink blend together in the sky, dewdrops, and a light breeze welcoming the morning and the rising sun. Whisps of cloud press against the colors that seem painted behind them. Golden light floods into the apartment between the curtains.

Veronica thinks she might puke again but manages to keep it down, studying herself in the mirror. She prays no one will be able to notice how terrified she is. It isn't until they're on their way that reality hits.

"Oh god. Oh my god! What-"

"Hey, Hey, calm down." They park on the side of a busy street. When she tries to stand her legs almost give, her bottom lip already on the verge of bleeding from how hard she bites it. She grips his hand when they walk inside.

Sliding into a seat, a piercing eye meets hers. Chandler's mom. When she looks away Veronica stares at her lap and struggles not to cry. Suffocating in secrets she is. She ruined a family, a future, and a life. If only she could apologize.

After a long while of forcing herself to take deep breaths, overanalyzing everything being said, and rubbing her thumb and middle finger together- a nervous habit she developed in high school, they've come to a verdict. The bang of a gavel, people standing and filing out, and Jason staring at her in concern and equal shock bring her back. The words repeat in her mind.

From those words, her life crumbles.

A/N: TO CLARIFY

1\. She didn't lose the baby. Someone forged their signatures and put the baby up for adoption while she was unconscious.

2\. They're reopening the case.


	25. A Casual Affair

I SUCK at writing kissing so uh- it's probably going to be awkward-

Veronica stares at the sky, vision blurred with tears. Thinking something and having it happen carry different feelings. She cries the whole way back, keeping her eyes on the scenery of the city out the window. Neither knows what to say.

Until the case closes again, they'll have to stay under the radar and create some kind of story in case they get questioned. She sniffles. Living in fear is no way to live. Secrets seem to be building a tunnel to devour her, dripping from the walls and leaking through the floor. It suffocates her every time her conscious drifts to the things she has to live with.

When they get back, she takes down the box she found the photo in and picks up a box of cigarettes.

"Are these from high school?" She walks back into the kitchen and begins looking for a lighter.

"Yeah. Couldn't look at em after you."

"Well, screw the grieving crap. I'm here now." She digs through a drawer, closing it when faking to find a lighter and leaning against the counter with an unlit cigarette in between her teeth.

Something about that stance, that look in her eye sends them back to high school. She sighs and paces the kitchen.

The rest of her life may be gone. An officer could show up at the door any minute saying that they'll have to go to the retrial, that the video has been found and they'll be facing a prison sentence. She closes her eyes. The cigarette feels light and round against her lip, with its own papery, almost ashy taste.

Where else are they supposed to look? What if they had been wrong, and Caroline never had the video?

"It's done. It's over." She opens her eyes again, motioning for him to come closer. "We did something bad." She plucks the cigarette from her mouth and sets it on the counter, taking Jason's hand and holding it to her chest. "I guess these are the consequences."

"Hey, this isn't the end." His lips graze hers.

"It could be." She pulls him closer and deepens the kiss. "We don't know what's going to happen."

In seconds she's pressed against the counter, his hands on her hips and lips close to her cheek. That red hot coal of desire tugs at her chest, body throbbing with it from being this close. Would it be so horrible to give in to it?

"We... we might go to jail, we might not. If not, what's going to happen? When all this is over, are we going to see each other again? Or go back to how things were?"

"Ronnie, that isn't for-"

"Shhh." She leans in, head tilted slightly. His lips press against her neck. "Just kiss me. I don't want things to go back to that, I don't know how things will turn out. But I can't get you out of my head and I used to hate that." She moves backward, sliding up to the edge of the counter and pulling him closer. "Damn you."

Breathing heavier, body light, she wraps her legs around his torso and lets her hands explore the skin under his shirt, wanting it off. He kisses down to her collarbone before meeting her lips again.

"I want this. God, I want this. I can't fake it anymore, I hate pretending."

His hand moves up to her waist, and he traces her jaw with his finger, everything growing more heated by the second. She seems to melt under the touch she finds herself craving. How his touch can bring her alive in seconds is beyond her as she's carried somewhere she's never been.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

Her eyes meet his when they break off. "Yes. But... this is... professional, right?"

He kisses her harder. "What else would it be?"

***

They don't talk after, laying there still tangled together, nothing but sheets over them and the sound of each others breathing the only thing standing against the silence. She relishes in contentment, the fire between them dying down to a state of peace and comfort.

He holds her close. Time didn't dull anything down; not passion, not feelings. Though their feelings laid dormant, they didn't vanish in the slightest.

Veronica tries not to doze off, still enjoying being close. It's past eight when she does doze off, even later when she awakens again. For some reason, she can't stop thinking about everything, longing to solve it.

Caroline's Chandler's sister. Caroline and Chandler are both dead. Peggy has something to do with it. She slides out of bed and dresses. She had a baby, which someone put up for adoption while she was unconscious. Now the Chandler case is going to have a retrial and someone may have a video of her committing murder.

Nothing much to think about.

Veronica drums her fingers against the counter, still unable to believe the earlier events. Needing time to think, she writes a note saying she went to go get (late) dinner.

It seems to be them against it all: time, the authorities, their own past, secrets, and desires. The air refreshes her, a bounce to her step when she walks down the sidewalk. She continues down the street until reaching a small restaurant.

After picking up food, she runs back with a new idea fresh in her mind.

"What if we've been wrong?!" She shouts, throwing the door open. "What if we've been investigating the wrong person all along?"

"Woah, where did you-"

"Peggy!"

"What?"

"We need to get her to go somewhere... or distract her, and then we can go through her things- we've been wrong! We've been investigating Caroline, but it's connected to Peggy!" She throws a bag of food down and jogs over to the table, where her textbooks lay opened. "I have court tomorrow, I have to prep, make a few calls, make sure I-"

"Slow down. How is this about Peggy?"

She pulls him down next to her on the couch and flips through her notes.

"I don't quite know yet. But Caroline being Chandler's sister... maybe she convinced Peggy to change her side so that Heather will get justice. Was she... pretending to be my friend then? Them being friends means they're working together." She lets out a groan and turns to him. "You don't have to stay up with me."

"You should sleep, Ronnie." He kisses the top of her head, and she sinks into the touch while turning the pages of a book now on her lap.

"Not tonight. I'm not tired anyway." She eyes him, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "Make me coffee?"

"You really will be up all night," he teases her before standing up.

"As if I'm not used to it."

What are we? She thinks. Is she just another fling? A one-night-stand? Her chest tightens. She doesn't show just anybody her body, let alone sleep with them. The self-consciousness that usually resides had fled when he touched her, but it returns the more she thinks about it. Why would she let things get that intense?

God, this is a punishment...

"You okay?" His voice shatters the one in the remembrance.

"Uh, Jason? Can we talk?"

He presses a warm mug into her hand and sits down. Something in her eyes has changed.

"Um... I'm sorry that I let this go this far. I forgot that we- that I'm-"

He cuts her off, "Veronica, you're overthinking this."

She presses the heel of her hand to her forehead. "I know. I am, but I can't not overthink it. After the party, I kept wishing he had- that I had let him because I deserve it..."

He furrows a brow in confusion, watching her face twist in pain.

"You don't deserve that. You didn't deserve anything that happened to you that day. If you don't want to do this-"

"That isn't what I'm saying!"

Jason sighs and runs his fingers through his hair, letting out a small laugh. "What are you saying?"

Honesty, genuine vulnerability flashes in her eyes. "I'm saying that I don't want to do this if it doesn't mean anything. I didn't plan on letting you get this close, nor did I plan on letting you see one of the things in the most insecure about. I hate myself and you can't fix that."

He watched her fiddle with a strand of hair, staring at her lap like it's the most interesting thing in the world.

"I know that I can't fix that," he says after a second. "I wasn't trying to. And who said this didn't mean anything? Look, I understand that you're insecure when it comes to things like that, and I don't blame you. But I'm not... judging your body or whatever you're worried about."

Tears pool in her eyes. She moves closer and lets him take her hand. "I'm worried... I don't even know what I'm worried about. I think part of it is..." she bites her lip and looks up at him; he runs his thumb over her knuckles, squeezing her hand.

"I think part of it is that I believe all these things. About myself, about the crash. The trauma and the alcohol and all my damn issues make me think things that weigh me down and- you challenge that. When I'm with you, I start to break the cycle, and I'm not used to it. I'm not used to being loved."

She hadn't realized how close they are until now. It always seems to be a game, how close they can get without giving in. She leans back, his hand resting on her arm and running over her skin, soft as velvet. In seconds his mouth is on hers, stealing her sense of time and control until she grounds herself.

"There isn't one goddamn day you were gone that you weren't loved."

They don't speak after that, too caught up in each other's touch, each other's bodies, and surfacing feelings that they've tried to ignore for so long.

***

Veronica awakens around midnight. Their shirts lay on the floor, bodies warm from being close. A blanket covers them, thrown on without a thought. She untangles herself with a muffled sob and tries to hold back another. Empty containers of food clutter the table, her textbooks on the floor, and highlighters lost in between the couch cushions.

It isn't until she sets down a half-full bottle of alcohol and finds herself curled up on the bathroom floor with a burning throat and cheeks wet from tears. She forces herself to sit up, the tile cold against her skin. The tears come faster when she gets a glance at herself in the mirror.

A strangled wail escapes. She hurls a lighter at the mirror as hard as she can, yelping when it comes flying back with a loud thud.

Don't do it, don't ruin things more, don't-

"Ronnie, hey, look at me."

"No! I-I was drinking, and need- let me-"

He holds her back from moving forward despite her attempts to shove her fingers down her throat. "Stop, that won't make things any better."

"I was drinking, I'm sorry! I have court tomorrow. Let me, you don't get it! You don't get it! T-the nightmares-"

"I know. But this isn't going to fix that, it will be one more thing you'll be upset about." She stops struggling, panting, and struggling not to hyperventilate. "Break the cycle, right?"

"I can't. The nightmares, JD, and- I- I cant s-stop-"

"Deep breaths. You're still going to court tomorrow, Alright? You didn't let anyone down."

"I'm letting everyone down! You, me, my family..." she sniffles and leans on him for balance. "I found a lighter. I was going to..."

He lifts her chin with his finger. "But you didn't. Go sit down."

"You can't help me," she says, sitting on the couch and then rolling onto her side. He hands her a tissue and then takes out his phone. Veronica can see the residue of sleep in his messy hair and tired eyes. "What are you doing? You don't need to call the hospital, I swear! Don't!"

"I'm not calling the hospital. Relax, you need to sleep the alcohol off."

"But-"

"Veronica." He holds the phone up to his ear and throws her a look. She can't tell if it's concern or exhaustion, but it silences her. It doesn't take long for her to relax and begin to drift.

Too much space, she decides. She misses being next to somebody, wrapped up in his arms and safe. Trying not to think about it or overhear the phone call, she buries her face in the pillow and falls asleep.

***

"You're sure I look okay?"

"You're going to be late if we have this conversation again."

Veronica crosses her arms and kisses him quickly, throwing the door open and forcing herself to walk inside the courtroom.

Here goes nothing. 

"Goddammit!" Is the first thing that she exclaims, trudging to the college. No one bats an eye when she enters.

She doesn't have a credit card, meaning she has to use her old student ID. Her heart drops to her stomach when taking it out.

Please don't be in there. She puts her ear to the door and hears nothing. Jamming the card into the crack, it slides around until hitting the lock. A satisfying click announces the unlocking of it.

Veronica steps inside Peggy's dorm not knowing what to expect. The room is still and empty. Relieved, she steps inside and begins digging through the first bag she sees.

Nothing.

She remembers the drawer under her bed and rips the covers up, yanking at it until it gives.

"Jesus Christ."

Draino. Sleeping pills. A notebook. A driver's license with the name "Amanda Olson," another with Caroline's picture and the name "Kelly Chandler." A drive.

She pulls her phone out and takes pictures, then shoves it in her pocket and puts everything back in place before leaving. Students pass by but don't look up when she runs outside, the phone held to her ear.

"I think I found the video footage."


	26. Up In Flames

This chapter explains like everything!

"There was more. I need to go back and get her laptop, but first, I need to destroy the video." Veronica climbs into the car, head spinning with thoughts and fears. She exhales and leans back.

"How'd court go?" JD asks once she gets comfortable.

"Uh... let's just say, I don't think Winters will be letting me have first chair again." She rests her head against the window, watching her old college get farther and farther away. A pang of bittersweet longing pieces her chest. "I blew it! What they showed up with, I never would have predicted."

"Then it isn't your fault for not knowing." He glances at the time and then at her.

"I'm supposed to be prepared. I thought I was," she sighs, furrowing a brow. They've passed the apartment building. Maybe he has to pick something up from work or talk to somebody? But when they pass that too, she sits up and opens her mouth to speak. "Where are we going?" The question hangs between them, remaining unanswered. "Jason," she tries again. "Where are we going?"

"I think we should talk about last night."

It takes a deep inhale for her to contain her irritation. "I had a breakdown, what's there to talk about?" Her head snaps up. "Wait, d-did you lie? You called a hospital?"

He laughs and puts a hand on her thigh. "I'm not taking you to a psych ward, Veronica."

Veronica clenches her hands into fists, deciding which cards to pull. "You know, you expect me to spill everything I'm feeling, everything in my life to you, and then you can't even tell me where we're going. How is that fair? Doesn't this count as a kidnapping to some degree?"

"You literally-"

"Ah, but people get in their kidnappers' cars all the time. Doesn't mean they don't get to press charges." She flashes a sarcastic yet confident smile. "You could be selling me behind a warehouse rigged with explosives in case I don't comply. You could be taking me to my death or sending me off to Korea to fight in the next war. I don't know."

He parks in front of a bland-looking building and turns to her. "Veronica, you're..."

"I'm what?" She folds her arms in front of her chest, smirking.

"Impossible sometimes," he replies, nodding towards the building while opening the door. She does the same and follows him inside.

"Nope, nope, nope, nope-"

He grabs her arm before she can run out. "You've done this before."

"That's the thing! I've done this so many freaking times, I don't want to be back here, I don't need this." But she knows that she does, that things haven't changed since the crash, if not gotten worse. "I didn't think you were this serious-"

"Calm down. I know you don't want to be back in that place or admit that you need this, but it isn't a bad thing."

She gulps and stares at her shoes. The aroma of hot coffee drifts from the table in the corner, fake plants sit on the counter, and simple colored furniture forms a living-room-like area. Part of her mind screams for her to run. But the other part knows she needs to do this.

"Whatever. You could have told me you were throwing me back into therapy," she snaps, attempting to hide her nerves. The door opens, and a woman with wide eyes and a haircut that reminds her of Winters's walks out.

He squeezes her hand. "I'll be in the car."

"Thanks a crap-ton!" She shouts back, voice dripping with sarcasm and eyes flashing with irritation and anxiety. Julia leads her to a room in the back.

Here we go again.

***

"Come on, we're going to be late," she announces forty-minutes later, sliding into the passenger seat and throwing JD another tight smile.

He sighs. "For what?"

"Hmm? Oh, I figured you scheduled me a lobotomy too. Or is that tomorrow?"

"Ronnie, I think you're being a bit dramatic. I get why you're upset I did this behind your back. But if I had told you, would you have gone? I wasn't going to drag you kicking and screaming."

"I..." she trails off and shakes her head. "Dammit. Do I have to go back? Can't you just stop caring? And I don't want you paying for this, or worry about-"

"Stop, Veronica."

She smacks the center console. "No. Pull over." When he does, she climbs out and starts walking down the sidewalk. They've returned to their area by now, a few minutes from the coast.

"It's what you have to do, Veronica. Count on people until you can get back on your feet." He manages to slow her down.

"Stop! Stop caring, stop trying to help me." Tears of frustration and irritation well up in her eyes. "I don't want it."

"You don't want to get hurt. There's a difference."

"Shut up. You think you know me so damn well."

He turns her around, a hand resting on her arm. She tenses at the touch. "I know you well enough to know you're going to keep going in circles. You're going to get hurt, Veronica. That's life. You fall and you get back up. You're on and off, one second fine and the next overthinking every move and thinking you know why people do things when you don't."

"Going in circles?" She scoffs. "Yes, I'm going in circles, it's all I do! It's all I can do! Do you think I like living like that?"

"And that's why people are trying to help you! Hannah, me, we all know you're in pain. I know you don't want to trust people and you don't want to rely on people, but right now, you need to stop pushing everyone away."

"I'm sorry," she mumbles, not knowing what else to say. The wind blows her hair around her shoulders, curls from earlier coming undone, and leaving frizzy waves.

"Don't be. Starting from the ground up is hard, alright? Whether it's your career, your health, or your finances, it's hard. But you're not alone, and once you see how much all this is affecting you, things are going to get easier."

She looks up, wiping her eyes and starting to walk back to the car. "I'm scared, I can't pretend that I'm not."

"I know. It's a scary thing." They stop in front of the car, eyes meeting. "Hell and back, right? Not like we haven't been there before."

Veronica looks at him for a long moment before giving in and falling into his arms. Their lips brush, bodies close in an instant. She buries her face in his shoulder. "Thank you."

***

"Hannah! I need you to bring me Peggy's laptop, make sure it's unlocked, and find out what she's doing later."

"Uh, why?"

"Don't ask questions, I'll never ask for anything ever again if you do this for me," Veronica pleads.

"I'll try."

"Thank you!" She hangs up and tosses her phone on the couch. Before coming inside, she had JD run over the drive, then collected the scraps and ruined them with water. Now, they reside in a plastic bag at the bottom of the trash.

They watch TV together until Hannah shows up and thrusts a laptop at her. "I don't know why you need this, but it better not get me arrested."

"You'll be fine," Veronica promises, taking it and closing the door. She motions for Jason to come over and sets it up at the counter. "God, she has a lot of files." She clicks on one labeled "SWYR." "Do you think it means my name?"

"I guess we'll see. You're sure she's tied into all this?"

"Yes," she insists, opening the file. A long list of emails pops up. She opens the first one. "How am I supposed to understand this?!"

"You're not," he states. "That's why they wrote it like that."

The words don't form full sentences, mentioning random things, sometimes with a question mark. It isn't until Veronica finds the email address of who they're sent to that she realizes why the file is named that.

"She's been emailing with my mom."

"What?"

Her eyes stay glued to the screen. "I dunno..." The one paragraph in each email contain fragments of information, like "payphone", "payment","raise"," protection", and "death."

"What the hell... they're addressed to Amanda, meaning my mom knows who she is. I can't piece together what they're talking about..." she clicks on a more recent email.

'Still with him. I haven't checked recently. Case reopened, as you probably know. Video secure.'

\- A.

"The video... oh my god! My mom knows about the video?" She clicks on another one, questions racing through her mind. How did Peggy get the video in the first place? Was her mom convincing her not to release it? "I don't get it, I thought my mom signed the papers, but why would she do that if she was trying to protect me?"

"The most recent email says "phone. 2200. Usual." By "usual," they probably mean the usual location for the call, and 2200 means 10:00."

She takes a step back and puts a hand on her forehead.

"I have to go there tonight. We need to find the email where she talks about the location- they had to have discussed it at some point."

"They've been emailing for a while... since school started," he mutters, scrolling down. "I think some of these are about you. "Went to lunch, got first chair, school, school, school, law terms-"

"Why- ugh! She had to have killed Caroline, I mean, I found draino. But... Caroline is Chandler's sister, and if- what if she showed Caroline the video?! And she killed herself because she found out that it was me. Or she wasn't supposed to find out, and Amanda killed her to protect me? No..."

She groans again and flops onto the couch.

"I think I found it. It's near the library."

"Then that's where I'm going at ten."

***

"Uh, Hey, this might be a weird question..." she trails off and stares at the floor, biting her lip. "But do you have a gun?"

"And why do you need a gun?"

"I could be facing a potentially dangerous person, and if she did kill someone we know for sure she is. It's safer. And what if she has people with her?"

He sighs and sits on the edge of the bed. "Do you really think she's dangerous?"

"Why do you think I won't let you go with me? I know by now not to trust people. It may be nothing, maybe it's less complicated than we think." She presses her lips together and leans against the doorframe. It isn't a lie, what she told him. Watching him consider it and predicting his response based on his face, she decides to pull another card.

"By the way, when did you plan on telling me we killed two other people?"

He looks up at her. "What?"

"Don't play dumb. We killed two teenage boys in high school. Shot em' in the woods behind the school. At first, I thought it was a nightmare; then I realized it was a memory." She folds her hands behind her back. 

"And when did you remember this?"

Ah, so it's true, she thinks. She recognizes the flicker of fear in his eyes when they talk about the murders- sometimes the past at all. It feels satisfying and weird at the same time to have that effect on someone, making them fear to lose her with a couple of words.

"A few days ago. We can talk about this later," she answers, glancing at the time on her phone. "I have to leave. Gun. Now." 

It takes effort for them to part- more than either would have admitted to a few weeks ago. Veronica pushes through the city wind, staying in the shadows that add another layer of concealment to her figure approaching the library. Headlights and street signs pierce the nighttime darkness. A dirty but working payphone sits several feet from the library, the blue phone a contrast in color to the dull silvers surrounding it.

She keeps her chin tucked down but doesn't lose sight of her surroundings. You learn that fast living in the city; getting distracted for even a second will be consequenced by finding yourself with a stolen wallet or handbag on these streets, if not someone following you home to take more than your Michael Kors clutch.

Hidden with a clear view of the payphone, she presses herself against the wall of the building and checks the time. 9:58.

A girl, unmistakably her suspect, emerges on the sidewalk. Her long, black coat covers most of her, falling past her knees. Blue jean peeks out and leads down to black boots. As she approaches the phone, her footsteps don't give the slightest echo- barely heard at all. Veronica wonders if this is intended by the girl. She watches her pick up the phone, jabbing digits on the keypad next to it.

Veronica strains to hear what she says, but she speaks in a low whisper. They speak for several minutes, Amanda's expression twisting into one of disgust and irritation. She slams the phone down and curses. Veronica shifts her weight and watches her walk away, entering an alleyway across the street. She follows several feet behind her.

"Amanda."

The girl whips around. Her mouth falls open when she sees Veronica- eyes widening when she sees the raised gun in her gloved hand.

"Against the wall. Now."

Amanda smirks and presses herself against the wall. Veronica keeps the gun raised, finger on the trigger. Okay, maybe she didn't tell JD this part of her plan.

"Explain why you've been emailing with my mother, and why you had the video footage."

"You don't know anything," she spits.

Veronica presses the gun to her stomach. "That wasn't a question. Fine, if you don't want to answer that, then why did you kill Caroline?"

Amanda smirks again. "I got a better deal from her, and we... had different beliefs."

"What? For god's sake, why are you emailing my mother? You had that footage to ruin me, so was she pleading with you not to release it?"

"Ruin you?" A look of sincerity crosses her eyes. "I came to Bloomington to protect you, Veronica. It wasn't me who wanted to ruin you."

"Caroline? Did she know about the video?"

Amanda lets out something between a laugh and a scoff. Veronica moves the gun to her neck, the barrel pressing under her chin, causing her to tilt her head up slightly. "Fine, fine! Yes, she was at the hospital when they were making the deal."

"When who was? Why were the Chandlers at the hospital?"

"The crash," Amanda replies flatly.

"So Caroline was blackmailing me... and my parents knew about the video? About...?"

"You and your boyfriend killing Heather? Yes, they knew about the video. Caroline came to Bloomington, and your mom knew it had to be some kind of threat, so she sent me."

Veronica presses the gun deeper into her neck. "To what? Be my bodyguard? A spy?"

"To keep you safe."

"Well, I'm pretty far from safe. Great job. And she pays you for that?" She raises her other arm and punches her across the face. Amanda tries to dodge under her arm, slamming her against the wall. Veronica hits her in the back of the head and throws her to the ground. Fingers wrap around her wrist and pull her down almost on top of her. They throw each other around until Veronica has an arm around her neck and a gun to her head, now on her knees and panting.

"Yes."

"But Caroline paid you higher to take me down," she mumbles. "So you killed her, that way you get all that money, and then you could turn in the video and get the tuition money. Well played. Did Caroline come to law school solely to take me down?"

"I mean," Amanda swallows and tries to pry Veronica's arm off of her to no avail. "You did kill her sister. Either she took you down at law school or she took you down once a lawyer."

"So she had you steal my stuff, try to figure out what I was doing. Then you went against Caroline and killed her... and is my mom just finding out about what you're doing?"

Amanda struggles against her again. "What are you going to do about all this? I could turn in that video, you know. I recommend you watch yourself."

Veronica slams her against the wall again. "Since you won't be returning to your dorm anytime soon, I'll tell you now that the video is gone." She knees her in the stomach to keep her pinned. "It's over."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that."

She shoves Veronica with enough force to send her stumbling back, almost succeeding to knock the gun from her hand. A punch to the jaw sends a flash of crimson liquid across her vision, the dark stone walls and wet ground blurry until everything focuses again. She knocks Amanda to the ground, kicking her in the side of the head and then on her side.

"Why were the Chandlers at the hospital in the first place?"

She chokes on blood and coughs, hands in fists by her sides. The answer lays on her face. "Other... t-the other car..."

Veronica kneels down, keeping one knee on her stomach to pin her and holding the gun to her temple. A mother's rage dances across her eyes, the pain of losing her lover and her child surfacing and seeping into her movements. Her hand that squeezes the gun stops shaking.

"Where is my daughter?"

"Your... Chandler, your- the deal. They made some kind of deal. I wasn't in the room."

"Who signed the adoption papers?"

"You. You signed them. She's with them," Amanda manages. "Your daughter is with them."

Veronica takes herself back the day of the crash.

"These are to discharge you. Sign here," her mom directed, pointing to a blurry black line. The painkilling drugs caused the walls to melt into each other, every word on the paper unclear. She lifted a hand, startled when she found she couldn't feel it and picked up the pen.

"Oh god. I did sign it."

"Let me go. I'm not the enemy here."

Those words induce a laugh from Veronica. "You're a greedy bitch willing to do anything for that money. Do you know what they did to me? What all of you selfish bastards did to me?! So this is for Caroline."

She swings her arm back, and Amanda attempts to crawl away. Blood flys from her nose and mouth when she brings the gun down, the barrel connecting with her face and turning her head to the side. Amanda groans and tries to hold a hand up.

"And this? This is for you." She brings the gun down again as hard as she can. The blow to her skull knocks her unconscious, blood oozing from the side of her head and onto the ground.

Veronica jams the gun into her waistband and leaves the alley. She quickens her pace, eventually jogging and then sprinting when she reaches the apartment.

"Who's blood-"

"The crash wasn't an accident," she mumbles, out of breath. Jason sighs.

"I've told you a million times-"

"No, listen to me. It wasn't an accident. It was attempted murder."


	27. If It Isn't Bonnie And Clyde

"What? Veronica, take a breath."

"You heard me. C-Chandler, Caroline, I don't know exactly who was involved, but they crashed into us. On purpose. And then at the hospital, they told us the forms were to discharge us, but they were adoption papers." She rips her gloves off and washes her hands. The taste of blood lingers on her tongue, dried drops of it still on her face from her split lip and nose.

She splashes water on her face and turns around, not bothering to sit down as she starts explaining everything.

"It was intentional. They... they tried to kill us." Each word fills her mind, one at a time, seeming too unbelievable to accept. "I killed somebody. Oh god, I killed somebody! I... I'm-"

"Calm down. You shot her?"

"N-no, we fought, and I h-hit her... there was blood and she was laying there... not breathing. She wasn't breathing!" More panic rises with each word. "I-I need to talk to my mom, I need-"

"Veronica." He clasps her hands between them. "Take a breath."

"Okay..." she trails off with a weak smile, looking up at him. He runs his hand down her back, pulling her closer. "I'd kiss you, but I probably taste like murder."

"Wouldn't be the first time."

She sighs and shakes her head. "This is all so messed up. One mess after another, you know?"

"Yup. Does this change the Chandler stuff?"

"Well, this is all going to play out somehow. The video's gone, but there are still other law students working on it. Not to mention the actual police now." She takes a step back, tempted to kiss him but clenching her fists by her sides to keep from giving in. "I think you should leave. Go somewhere far from here, break off connection with everyone you know from here and Westerburg, and we never see each other again. I'll finish school and then move across- or out of- the country."

She flashes a weak smile, approaching the idea tenderly in a hope not to break both of their hearts.

"What? Where the hell did you get that idea?"

Dammit. She hugs her arms to her chest. "Well, wouldn't it be the smartest thing to do? We have to make this as hard as possible for them to-"

"I can't with you sometimes, you know that?" Despite a light tone, those words take her by surprise. He watches her smile drop before she turns and goes to put pajamas on. Is she serious? 

When he walks into the bedroom, she's sitting on the edge of the bed with that smile again. "Hi." The mere thought of leaving, of giving this up, makes her chest tighten. "Can we-"

"Veronica, it's late, don't do this right now."

"Sit down." She moves over and puts a hand on his arm when he sits down. "I'm sorry. I know that was kind of... out of nowhere." Falling onto her back and pulling him down next to her, she intertwines their hands between them. "I wouldn't trade this for anything in the world, you know that? I don't care if they have a gun to my head."

Their lips brush. "If there's one thing I won't do, it's let you leave again. We'll get out of this."

"And then?"

He gives her a gentle kiss. "Don't think about then. Think about now."

"That's harder than it sounds," she mumbles, his lips grazing her collarbone. "I can't stop. And it's killing me. I have so much blood on my hands, and we have so much time to make up for, but it's so limited-"

Chills race down her back when his hand meets the bare skin of her back under her shirt. She moves onto her back fully, wrapping her arms around him. They hold each other for a minute, relishing in the warmth and the feeling.

"I missed you."

"I missed you too." He kisses her again before they sit up, Veronica groaning.

"What if we went with my original plan?" She sucks in a breath. "I don't know if I can handle it, I mean, we're ruining lives. But... what if we pinned it on someone?"

"Who?"

"I don't know," she admits, squeezing his hand. But names are filling her mind; that fact scares her. "How would we do that? Forge a letter and send it in?"

He shrugs. "Or we could make them confess themselves."

"B-But to do that we'd have to..." she trails off and sighs. Could she handle ruining someone else's life- their future? "I'll think about it-"

"Tomorrow." He pulls her closer. A small smile tugging at her lips, she lets him carry her to the living room and set her down on the couch.

"You're right," she mutters, their lips inches apart. She starts to shatter that distance. "Tomorrow."

***

"She has no kids at least, she wouldn't be leaving many people behind. Oh god, I'm a horrible person." He laughs and watches her scroll. "I found her address."

"Great."

"I know, right?" She replies, voice dripping in sarcasm. "Don't... hurt her, alright? No matter what you say, promise me you won't." He plays with her hair until she turns around, eyes serious. "I'm not kidding. Promise me."

"I promise."

She stands, satisfied, and gives him a quick kiss, slipping her shoes on. That question keeps running through her mind, but she tries to shove it away; she knows better than to let waves distrust get between them.

When they arrive at the house, she freezes. It takes several exhales for her to make herself move.

"You ready? She's home."

"Yeah. Fine, let's get this over with."

She knocks while he scans for cameras. None are visible, and they pray they aren't inside. The door swings open to reveal the ex-green-clad girl.

"Well, if it isn't Bonnie and Clyde. What do you want?" She smirks and folds her arms. They exchange a glance and shove past her, earning a scoff. "Well, come on inside!"

"We will, thanks."

Veronica paces the living room, picking up a photo of the three Heathers that had been sitting on top of a speaker next to the fireplace. Polaroids surround it. The room is filled with simple furniture: a crackled-leather couch, a burgundy armchair, and other items that look as if they'd been bought from random garage sales or the local Goodwill. A glass coffee table and TV fill the other corner of the room.

"What do you guys want?"

Veronica chuckles and walks back over. They have her cornered. "Pick up the phone."

"What?" A confused expression twists on the other girl's face. "It- why?"

Veronica looks from her now anxious eyes to her lover, who pulls out the gun she used to kill Amanda. He presses it to Heather's temple. She gulps, pulling her phone from her pocket. Her reddish hair falls down her shoulders, tied half-up.

Veronica takes a step closer. "You're going to call the police-non-emergency number and tell them you killed Chandler. Say anything else and you're dead."

"But I didn't- No! I didn't kill her, you guys are insane!" Heather lets out a nervous laugh. "You're crazy."

Veronica slams her against the wall. She has that look in her eye- the one she used to be afraid would take over. The sudden movement wiped the smirk right off her face.

"You guys killed her... didn't you? That's why-"

"We're not going to tell you again." She leans close to her ear. "I'm going to be a lawyer, Heather. I'll get you out someday. I'm graduating soon, and it will be the first thing I work on. That is if you do this."

"Why should I go down for this?! You two are crazy, you always have been! That isn't my fault."

"I know. Maybe you didn't do this, but you made a lot of peoples' lives hell, and you can't tell me you haven't broken the law in the past. Call them." It's what she has to tell herself; Heather deserves this.

With the end of the gun digging into her head, Heather dials the number, hands trembling. "I-Veronica, don't-"

"I'll get you out, goddammit, just call them and confess!"

"And if you don't?! I could be in jail for the rest of my life!"

"I'll find some way." She looks at Jason. "We always have been good at staging things. Call them, I'm done asking."

Heather presses the call button, lip quivering. She looks up with one more thing to say before someone answers.

"I hope you burn in hell."


	28. Love And Regret

On the way back, Veronica starts to laugh.

The nerves, the regret- and lack of- catch up to her in a confusing wave. Hands shaking, she pants and grips the door handle, running her fingers through her hair with her other hand. There doesn't seem to be a way to express the whirlwind inside of her, meaning it releases itself through sickening laughter.

"Did this happen when we killed Chandler?" She asks in the wake of getting herself together. JD eyes her in concern; she doesn't look fazed in her reaction.

"No..."

She leans her head against the window. "Great, I'm going insane."

Everything that happened in the house replays in her mind like a broken record player. Heather holding the phone to her ear as she confesses to the sin of two young and stupid lovers not thinking about the consequences, what's going to go down when she walks into that courtroom for another trial that will determine the rest of her life, and Heather's hatred that she knows will always be embedded in her, coming to the surface when thinking about Veronica. She had always shuddered knowing hatred like that was directed at her, but now she doesn't think about it long enough to react.

When they arrive at the apartment, Veronica goes straight to the news.

Of course, Heather being dragged away got on camera, pure irritation etched on her face. But under it is clear distress. Veronica feels an arm around her waist and lets out a small sigh.

"It's over," she mutters as the police escort Duke to a cop car on the screen.

He kisses the top of her head. "I hope so."

She continues to watch the TV, as if in a trance. Everything on the screen seems to move in slow motion; the whole thing is a play on a stage that doesn't exist or a train rushing by her that mesmerizes those who watch. She tries to speak but the words get stuck in her throat.

A cold wind presses against her- the hands of shock and talons of inevitable regret. Is their love strong enough to cover the aftermath? The emotional residue of ruining a life as theirs was ruined the day of the crash?

"Are you upset about it?"

She turns around, letting him hold her in that way he does so well and melting into the touch. "I don't know how I feel. But... what if she's going through what we did? We took her from her boyfriend, from her family-"

"Veronica, it's different and you know that."

"What if she decides to have a trial and pleads not guilty even though we told her what story she needs to use? What if she doesn't listen?"

A reporter talking about Amanda being found dead comes on next.

"Then we'll... figure out how to get out of it. This could go a lot of different ways."

"That's the problem," she laughs. "I need to know that we're safe, but I guess that's too much to ask right now. It'd be more than we deserve..." They force their eyes off of the TV and look at each other, trying to get lost in something other than regret.

***

Somehow, they end up at the beach. Well, in the car several feet from the road near a ledge over the beach. It makes her feel small, knowing how big everything around her is. The city, the ocean, life in general. She stares out the window, eyebrows unknowingly knit together and a look of curiosity in her eyes.

They lay in the backseats, tangled together, and occasionally speaking but enjoying most of the moments in silence. Is this what summer would have been like if they had been together? if she had more than photos?

"What are you thinking about?" He turns her head to the side, trying to figure out what's going on behind her expression. The corners of her mouth turn up when their eyes meet.

"It's like a good dream. One that we're going to wake up from." She bites her lip when he raises a brow, sitting back. "Aren't you scared this is going to end? After all this, will it be those months all over again?"

"This isn't then, Ronnie. It's all or nothing with you, I know that but just because-"

"I mean, there's no reason when this is over, that you'll want me anymore, or that we... I-I don't know. Maybe I'm caught up in my head again."

He traces her jaw with his thumb, their lips meeting briefly. "Did you forget everything that's happened? Distance, time- 'Ronica, do you think those things determine how we feel? If those months taught you anything, it'd be not to let go."

"I know. Maybe I'm selfish," she whispers. "But I can't lose this again. You make me feel like I'm not hopeless... like I'm worth something even if everything is falling apart and I'm not just my past." She removes his arm from around her shoulders and climbs over to the door. "It scared me, you know? One day I was losing sleep over nightmares and the next I'm losing sleep over you, but I don't mind because my reality might as well be a dream that I don't want to wake up from.

"And I had this... resistance, but you managed to knock down this wall that I shouldn't have let weaken because now I can't let go. Maybe we don't lose each other like after the crash, but either way, I can't let this go."

She digs through the glovebox until finding a lighter she bought earlier and holds up a cigarette. "This. This is what you do to me."

The clouds have parted enough to let warm sunlight blanket the beach, and though the promise of rain later in the week, something tells her it won't be today. Moving closer to the ledge, she lights the cigarette and watches the smoke drift away and disappear into the painting-like view of the shore. Gravel crunches under her shoes, and she studies her turquoise-painted nails. To her surprise, she doesn't regret what she admitted to. Silence doesn't solve anything.

She finds herself thinking about Caroline, about Amanda, and the upcoming conversation with her mom. Her chest tightens at the thought. A small part of her doesn't want to know the answer about her daughter or how much was done while they were unconscious.

Feeling eyes on her, she lets out a small huff and stomps out the cigarette. "Why are you watching me?"

"You're beautiful."

"Oh, shut up." But she finds herself back in his arms, her lips back on his in a matter of seconds. Goddammit. She hates it. Being breathless, helpless like this. Because there isn't a damn thing she can do about it.

"I have to go see my mom," she mumbles when they break apart. "I need to do this alone. Keep me updated on what happens with Duke and the Amanda investigation, yeah?"

"Of course."

She knows how hard it will be to separate. How did she get here? Exiting the hospital that day, the weight of what she thought was a betrayal convinced her to never love again, and now she can't look at him without feeling as if she might fall over.

She shakes her head, laughing softly with the sun running down her hair and bringing out the golden tint, dancing in her eyes as she inhales the ocean breeze.

"You've managed the impossible, Jason Dean. I'm utterly and stupidly helpless."


	29. An Unpleasant Reunion

"Mom."

"Veronica! Ronnie, you came-"

"Back?" Veronica scoffs. "No, I'm not back. I'm here now because it's time you learned things can't stay hidden forever." She lets the door slam behind her so hard the house shakes. Ms. Sawyer winces and leads her to the living room.

"Where's my daughter? What deal did you make with the Chandlers?"

"W-what?" Her mother pales.

"The deal with the Chandlers, mom! What was discussed when Jason and I were unconscious after the crash? I already know about Amanda, I know that you forged our signatures to put our baby up for adoption, I know that you told him I lost it-"

"A-Amanda? Who-"

"Don't play dumb!" Veronica screams, pacing in front of the fireplace. "I saw the emails. I know what's going on." She sucks in a breath and forces out the words, "You know that Jason and I killed Heather."

"I'm assuming you two are together again?"

Veronica's frustration reaches its tipping point. "Answer the damn question! What 'deal' did you make with the Chandlers?"

Ms. Sawyer sighs and pats the spot next to her; Veronica ignores the invitation to sit and continues to pace. "Ronnie-"

"Don't call me that!" She snaps, pressing her lips together after. "Only one person gets to call me that."

"So you two are back together."

The subject change earns a groan, her hope of getting real answers thinned down to a sliver. "We're not- It's complicated. But that isn't the point." It isn't a lie. They are complicated, but recently a new hope blossomed, that they're strong enough to work through it. What that means for the future, she doesn't yet know.

"You guys are young, believe it or not. If things didn't work out back then-"

"You have to be kidding me!" Ineffable rage pulses under each word, her tone laced with irritation and cracking on the last word. "We don't know if things would have worked out, you ripped that chance right from under us."

"I couldn't have prevented the crash. If I could, I would have in a second, you know that."

"I don't know that, Marianna," she mutters, realizing this is the first time she has ever addressed her mother by her first name. "Was Amanda actually there to protect me? Or did you know about her working with Caroline?"

"She was supposed to protect you." Marianna sucks in a breath. Her face scrunches up as if the words hurt to say. "After the crash, Melissa Chandler showed me the video footage of Heather. I begged her not to turn it in. You had a baby and a future. She- murder is no small thing, Veronica. We had to convince Jason to leave so that he wouldn't find out any of it, or turn you in. It was a child for a child in a way, as twisted as that is."

It takes a moment for Veronica to find the words. "Do you know how much pain there was? He blamed himself for months and so did I!"

Marianna stands up, the corners of her mouth turned down in a way Veronica recognizes from when she saw a test with a grade lower than an A or morning chores not done.

"This is about more than you and your... high school sweetheart. And yes, I do know how much pain there was after. I hated every moment of it! Signing those papers was the hardest thing I've ever done."

Veronica shakes her head, too angry to cry. "You thought this would fix things? Giving away my child, taking the only person that makes me feel like I'm not broken, and paying some girl to make sure I don't do something stupid when you can't see me?! Great plan." Despite the fury serving as a roadblock to tears, she finds herself holding back a sob. "Caroline's dead. Amanda killed her because of money. Now they've lost two kids. They're going to suspect me."

Marianne reaches out to clasp one of her daughter's hands in between hers. Veronica recoils the second they touch. "We'll figure it out, I promise."

"We? It's never been we! I could be in danger," she hisses, breath hitching in her throat. "They already almost killed me, who says they won't do it again?!" She bites down on her lip and looks around the room she used to be so comfortable in. Now, every time she walks in, she can't think of a time she wasn't screaming at her mom or drenched in pain after the crash, not recognizing the decorations in her own house.

"I destroyed the video. We deleted the emails and I got rid of anything I had that connects me to Caroline or Amanda." She pauses but regrets it when a lump forms in the back of her throat. "She was my friend, you know. Caroline was so... nice to me. I don't know why if she hated me so much; maybe she lived in her fantasies of taking me down."

Marianna shakes her head, losing her battle to find an answer. Painful silence follows.

"She wanted to do it in a courtroom," she says after several moments that had dragged on like an eternity. Veronica looks up. "After the crash, she was a mess, screaming that you would pay. But not with your life. She wanted to make sure you didn't get anything Heather won't ever have now."

"I deserved it." Veronica's voice doesn't exceed a whisper. "I killed her sister. Of course, she hates- hated- me." She fiddles with the hem of her shirt- well, JD's shirt that she fell in love with and stole, now wearing it half-way tucked into a skirt with leggings and boots- and lets those words sink in. "I think Hannah, a classmate, is going to throw her a tribute at her house before I was in the hospital."

Mariann's brows knit together. Veronica doesn't realize what she'd said until the words are out. "Hospital?"

"Uh..." she seats herself on the edge of one of the two white chairs, which add to the formal atmosphere. This room never felt like one for a family but a business meeting- one of its many purposes. The Sawyers hadn't eaten TV dinners and played board games or watched films together, cuddled up on the couch, tangled in blankets, and laughing with a bowl of popcorn being passed around in this room.

Instead, they had sat stiffly across from people in clothing so expensive it appeared in luxurious dreams and signed papers slid across the glass table that Marianna cleans every Sunday.

"I overdosed on opioids and had to be hospitalized. At the time, I was staying with Hannah and a couple of college friends..." Can she call them friends? Hannah had offered support that she refused, and everyone else gave her a place to stay for a night. "I wasn't there for long, though."

"You decided to move out of your dorm?" Her mom raises a brow, and she sees Veronica's vulnerable and pained expression before she can change it.

"Uh, they... I can't stay there anymore. I broke a couple of rules..." she trails off.

"Why? Where are you staying now? Was the overdose... i-intentional?"

Veronica's mouth falls open a bit. "Uhm, no, I had the bath running so that if I... overdosed someone would find me. It was stupid, I took more than I should have, I was half-asleep..."

"Why are you using in the first place? Stress?"

She stares at the carpet, chewing her lip. "I'm bulimic. I was using the pills to numb me when I wouldn't let myself eat and some other drugs to keep me distracted and-"

"What happened to you?" Marianna cuts her off. Tears well in her eyes and Veronica feels like she's been stabbed.

"Things get hard," she shrugs. "JD's helping me best I can, and Hannah let me stay when I had nowhere else to go. I'm back in therapy-" she falls quiet when her mother holds up a hand.

"Why would you go running back?"

"W-What? Running back? You're seriously pissed that we found each other again?" She stands and digs her nails into her palms until she can't stand it. "I don't need to tell you anything! You're selfish, and you- I'm done."

"What else was I supposed to do, Veronica? Let you get arrested, have a life sentence to look to with a baby on the way, be in a relationship that..."

"That what?! You can't accept that you weren't there for me and now someone else is, someone that isn't you!"

"Short-lived!" Marianna shouts back at her, now on her feet. "That's what I was going to say. And don't tell me that I don't look out for you when I steered you away from heartbreak and being used again?"

"I... short-lived?! It wasn't a fling or a "high-school-sweethearts" kind of thing, mom! And do you think that prevented me from getting my heart broken?!" Despite thinking she couldn't, Veronica starts to cry. Her chest and shoulders tremble; she paces in front of the table, brows knit together and a headache blossoming in her temples. "We both were ruined after, and we're finally starting to get it all back."

"We're going in circles. It's what I had to do, and I'm sorry if it hurt you, but you still don't understand the weight of your actions! It was going to end at some point, you don't want to be with-"

"Don't tell me what I want! We aren't something with a deadline or some high school game!"

"Then what are you, Ronnie? In love?"

She takes a step back, bottom lip quivering, and chest heavier with each breath. "You don't get to ask me that!" She sobs. "And I told you not to call me that."

"I'm your mother, I'll call you whatever I wish. Three people are dead because of you, do you forget that?"

"What...?" Does she know about Ram and Kurt?

Marianna scoffs. "Well, I assumed you killed Caroline, and don't try to tell me Amanda's death was someone random-"

"I didn't kill Caroline." Veronica's throat goes dry. "Amanda was an accident. I swear on my life." Too hot all of a sudden, she removes her jacket and drapes it over her arm. "My daughter, you let the Chandlers adopt her while I was unconscious. You told me everything that was going on with my body... was normal! It took me way too damn long to realize I had been pregnant." She takes a step closer. "Do you have a photo?"

Marianna nods and disappears down the hallway, leaving her daughter to sigh and massage her temple. After a moment, she texts JD that she arrived and that this can't get any worse, meaning she should be on her way back soon. Her heart aches when she sends it, missing him.

Her mom hands her a photo, drawing her attention away from the phone.

The tears come in an instant.

"She looks like him and me..."

"I'd be concerned if she didn't," her mom laughs, the tension beginning to evaporate. Veronica takes out her phone and sends a picture.

"Are they nice to her at least? Do they treat her well?" She looks up, still clutching the photo and eyes widening with hope, glossed over in tears.

"They don't want anything to do with us, but I've tried to check in a couple of times. The day of the... crash, I begged her to take care of her. Melissa was... grief-stricken and angry, but I don't think she would take it all out on Evelyn."

Veronica blinks. "Evelyn?"

The corners of her mom's mouth turn up in a small smile. It's all it takes for her to gather what she means and pull her phone out again.

\- her name's Evelyn

\- she has your eyes

\- I like the name Evelyn. Evelyn.

\- We can call her Eve for short.

\- Or Eva.

\- isn't she pretty?

\- Just like her mom, he responds.

She smiles and looks back up. One thought of him, and he's all she can think about. "She's beautiful. And I'm going to see her; I'm going to get her back."

Marianna's smile fades. "Veronica, if you're staying with Jason for the time being and you're... struggling... I don't think that's a good idea."

"Excuse me?"

The noise Veronica makes is something between a scoff and a laugh. "Are you telling me I shouldn't try to get my daughter back?"

"You don't know what it takes to support a child! You have to finish school, and then you'll be so busy with your career-"

"That's you, mom," she hisses. "You were the one too busy with your career. But I'm not going to be like that. If there's one thing I don't want to be, it's like you."

"I'm being realistic. You don't have the money, the support, or the time to raise a child." She takes a step closer, scowling. "And you don't understand what you'd be doing, breaking the deal, which I made because I didn't have a choice!"

Hot tears roll down Veronica's face. "I don't care about a-"

"You're going to when you're life is in danger! They already tried to kill you once, who says they won't do it again? You're threatening something that let you go free, something that's already been decided!"

"No. No, shut up!" She whips around, stuffing the photo into her pocket and slipping her jacket back on. "I'm done. I'm leaving."

"Wait, I-"

"No! Never talk to me again, don't call me, don't email me, I never want to see you again."

The door slams; the house shakes. Veronica jogs down the steps with a hand covering her mouth to quiet her sobs. The phone is held up to her ear in seconds.

"Hey-"

"We'regoingtogetherbackincourtthat'swhat-"

"Woah, hey, slow down. Are you okay?" She stops on the corner and hugs her arms to her chest, weeping. "Ronnie, what's-"

"I need you. And she- she doesn't think I can do it or that w-we..."

"Calm down, are you at the airport?"

"N-no, I'm-" she sniffles and wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. "I'm headed there right now. I want to be back there with you, I shouldn't have... I'm going to call a cab and... head back, I guess."

"I'll see you soon, be safe alright?"

"Yeah. I-I'll see you in a bit."

She hangs up, only to get another call.

"Hey, it's Hannah. There's going to be a memorial for Caroline- and Peggy-"

"Right on time," Veronica mumbles. "Sorry. Go on."

"It's at my place tomorrow. Starts at one, feel free to bring food but of course, you don't have to. I informed the Chandlers about it, but I doubt they'll come all the way up here."

Her blood runs cold. "O-Oh."

"So you'll be there?"

"Uh, sure. Yeah, I have to go."

"Great, see you there."

***  
When the door swings open and Veronica stumbles in, she grips the edge of the counter and doubles over, vision blurred from tears. Her shoulders tremble with sobs until she slumps down to the floor.

An arm wraps around her and she buries her face in Jason's shoulder. He brings her to her feet, her sobs more like wails now.

"I-"

"It's okay, you don't have to say anything."

So she doesn't. When she stops crying enough to talk, she explains everything her mom said and then about tomorrow. But her words are slurred, and after a while, it becomes clear the cause is more than crying.

"T-The Chandlers a-are going to be... heh... I uh, sorry, I-"

"Veronica, look at me."

"Hmmm?" She looks up with a soft smile, eyes red-rimmed, and cheeks red. But for a different reason. He studies her face and then lets go of her arm; she stumbles and sways.

"Have you been using again?"


	30. Rock Bottom (Reprise)

Veronica takes a step back; the color drains from her face.

"Why... Why would you s-say that? Nooo," she slurs, leaning on him to keep from falling over since the room has become a carousel, spinning and sparkling and twirling her all around. Colors aren't the only thing fighting each other; she can't decide which emotion is the strongest, or if any of them are reasonable. Is she mad about earlier? Floating on euphoria? Annoyed?

"Veronica, be-"

"I haven't been using! I didn't do anything!" She screams, fresh tears threatening to spill over. Uncontrollable anger pulses under her skin, chest rising and falling fast but now from yelling. "I d-didn't do any...anything. You have to- hic-believe me!"

He takes her by the arm and makes her sit on the couch. "How have you been feeling?"

"F-Fine. I dunno, empty now. I want a drink." Those words tumble out without intent. Can your tongue have a pulse? She can't feel her legs either.

JD runs his fingers through his hair and looks her over again. Her eyes roam around the room, never able to focus on anything. She won't stay still.

"Can y-you help me stand up?"

He helps her walk to the hall, where she stumbles into the bathroom. Throwing herself down, she pukes for several minutes and then dry heaves for another minute. Drops of sweat form on her forehead and neck. One hand grips the end of the counter, her stomach twisting and chest heavy.

"I... can't, It-trying to..." tears blend with sweat and smeared makeup on her cheeks. Her mouth and mind won't cooperate. She feels her hair is tied back and rips her heels off, letting her jacket slide off her shoulders and pool around her. "I'm s-s-sorry."

"It's okay-"

"No, I..." she slumps down, wiping her mouth and flushing the toilet. Her nails dig into her palms. "I was drinking, okay?! I w-went to a b-b-bar on the way b-back. A-and on the plane I had a couple of d-drinks. But I know w-when to stop! I-"

"Calm down. Do you remember how many drinks you had?"

"I Uhm, everything went black a-a-after a while."

He sighs, "So you blacked out?"

"I guess I- hic- did. I w-was drinking before that."

"Before you went to your mom's? When?"

She attempts to stand and almost falls, leaving her jacket on the floor and letting him guide her into a chair. "Bottles. In the- m-my bag."

"You have alcohol in your bag? I thought you threw those out when you moved in." He slides her a glass of water across the table.

"I hid them, okay?! You don't get it, I need... I need something to make me feel, and... I'm so sad!" She exclaims, her face scrunched up in pain and mascara running down her face. "I- hic- hid it." She takes a small sip of water with shaking hands.

"Why? What made you want to start again?" He asks softly.

She grips the glass until her knuckles turn white. Then, she throws it on the floor and watches it shatter, not blinking.

"I never stopped, okay?!" I... I hid the bottles, I'd get s-street drugs and get high after classes before I saw you again, and I'd drink before we went to bed or in the m-middle of the night so that I slept it off."

"Veronica..." Honestly, he has no idea what to say.

"You can't help. I know you want to but you can't. And I... I c-can't do this!" She hops down from the chair, swaying. "You have to believe me, I k-know when I can stop, and I will."

"When? You said you did and now-"

"I know! I didn't want to l-let everybody down but once I start I can't stop because I n-need it! I need it! And I don't have a problem, I d-don't!" Walking down the hall, which takes more effort than it appears, she enters the bedroom and kneels next to one of her bags.

"Veronica, that's the thing, you say that you're going to stop but every time you drink, that's going to get harder. You told me you were walking to AA meetings after class, I'm guessing that was a lie too?"

"I don't... no, I didn't go! I'm sorry, but I was busy and-"

"Busy drinking," he sighs, kneeling down next to her. She opens her bag and digs around until her hand hits one of many small bottles of booze. A six-ounce flask lays next to them, a bottle of pills tucked under her shirts.

It isn't until she starts fumbling with the top of one of the bottles that he realizes what she's trying to do and takes it from her. She starts sobbing harder; she starts screaming. In her eyes, he's taking away the only clutch she has and not realizing it will cause her to collapse.

"What happened?"

It takes a moment for her to realize what he's looking at.

"Oh, I c-couldn't feel anything. They g-gave me a plastic knife at the... the... place. Food place." She looks down at the crisscrossing welts down her arms, some of which covered in dried blood. Other customers had looked at her weirdly when she made them, running that knife up and down like she was slicing through the skin of a piece of fruit, the blood pooling up in the slits like a narrow river and dripping down her arm.

"Oh my god. When- you know what, stand up."

She grips a handful of her hair, tugging and struggling not to hyperventilate. "No. Nononono, don't call anybody, I don't need it. Don't! I'll never forgive you if-"

"Stop, take a deep breath." He detaches her hand from her hair. "You tell me, do you need to stay in a hospital for the night?"

She lets him bring her to her feet. "No, and I can't study or afford that or-"

He lifts her chin with two fingers. "Don't worry about any of that. Do you need it?"

Something crosses her face. Her lip quivers and hands tremble, stomach in knots from the alcohol. "No. It will m-make things worse; I can't handle t-the anxiety of being in there on top of this."

"Okay, then you need to listen to me, alright?"

She nods and grips his hand, resting her head on his shoulder when the tears start up again. He wraps an arm around her and rubs her back. Pure devastation seeps into those sobs.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, voice cracking on the last syllable. "I'm not getting better, Jason. Everything's getting worse. I'm not supposed to be back here! I'm supposed to be better!"

"You're going to get better. It takes time and effort, but you'll get there."

"No," she sniffles. "I can't do it, I-I'm going to call the dean and tell him I'm dropping out. A-And tell Evelyn I'm sorry, but I'm not strong enough-"

"Stop." He detaches her arms from around him but doesn't let go of her hands. "Don't make big decisions when you're like this-"

"What do you mean "like this?" This is me! I'm an alcoholic, broken nutcase druggie amnesic!" She sniffles again. "I still don't remember it all, and I want to so damn bad!"

"You will, Ronnie."

"When?!" She takes a step back and sighs, struggling not to cry again. If she starts back up, she may not stop for the rest of the night. He traces her knuckles with his thumb before releasing her hand. "Hannah is putting on a memorial for Caroline and Peg- Amanda. I figured the thing a not-guilty person would do is attend. The Chandlers might be there."

"If you feel up to going tomorrow..."

"I'm overwhelmed if I'm being honest... they might be after my life again for something I didn't do, and now we have Evelyn to-" she cuts herself off and slips the photo out of her pocket. "I was going to show you this; I convinced my mom to give me a photo," she says, smiling softly and handing it to him.

"Is this...?"

"It's our Evie, yeah." She rests her head on his arm and looks at the girl in the photo, her hazel eyes a mix of the lovers' different shades and hair a sliver lighter than Veronica's but wavy like Jason's, a smile tugging at her thin lips. A lacy collar leads to a light blue blouse, her tiny hand held up in a wave, and parted lips reveal small, bright white teeth. Her baby pink skirt files out around her legs, white tights under it, and on her feet mini Mary Jane shoes.

"She's beautiful like you," he murmurs, something unfamiliar coming over him from seeing their daughter for the first time.

"More than me." She takes the photo from his hand and sets it on the bed, sitting down and flexing her hands. "My mom told me Caroline wanted to take me down. It's why she came to law school, to try and get justice for Heather and destroy me in a courtroom. And I think I want to bring the Evelyn custody mess to court."

"Veronica, one thing at a time. We still don't know what Duke's going to do-"

"She better do what we told her to do! We can't have her screw this up; I don't think they'll let us get her back if we're being investigated for murder!" He throws her an "are you serious?" look and sighs, earning a raised brow. "What?"

"Do you think they're going to give her to you even if we aren't? One of the first things they're going to ask about is your PTSD and how you're coping with everything. Drinking until you blackout and buying drugs off the street doesn't scream "I'm suitable to raise a kid."

"B-But I'm getting help. I'll go back to therapy and-"

"That's what you said before," he sighs. "And you're obviously languishing in this downward spiral."

"I get it," she hisses. "I'm a mess and the judge will laugh in my face. But you don't understand the pressure I'm under. I'm trying not to let everyone down, I am!"

"You need to be in a place where you can be under that pressure and not pick up a bottle of booze or-"

"Goddammit, stop talking to me like I'm a kid! I know I need to get it together. Maybe you can't see it, but I'm trying!"

"Yeah, alright." He tears his eyes away from her and rubs the bridge of his nose. "We're going in circles, and you're not thinking straight tonight."

She shakes her head and stands. The hope seeing that photo had given her starts to disintegrate. 

"I'm going to take a shower, I smell like vodka." Tears well up in her eyes, and when the door closes, she lets them spill over.

***

Feeling a bit soberer, she emerges from the bathroom and enters the kitchen wearing a blue tank top and sweatpants that pool at the ankles.

"You're looking at the AA meeting schedule, aren't you?" She lets out a sigh and curls up next to him on the couch, bringing her knees to her chest. Most of her ruined makeup came off in the shower, but specks of black residue stand out against pale skin under her eyes, puffy and red from all the crying.

"I'm sorry," she continues. "For being such a mess. And for falling apart. And lying about being better." When he doesn't answer, she stares at her lap and sighs, fiddling with her hands. "You're right, even if I did get Evelyn back, she deserves better than this. You deserve better than this. I'm sorry."

He sets the phone down and holds an arm out, allowing her to move closer and snuggle up. Feeling as if she's a million miles from comfort, his touch is the sole thing that could give her a drop of it.

"Ronnie, you're stronger than you think, alright? This isn't the end, you still have time to get better."

"Maybe you have that kind of faith in me, but I don't. Do you think I'd even be a good mom?" She lays her head on his chest as he strokes her damp hair. The smell of booze has been replaced with lilac perfume and coconut shampoo.

"Yes, I'll tell you that now and I'll say it in court if I have to." He sends her a glance and then nudges her. "Hey, no more tears tonight. You need to rest if you're going to that thing tomorrow." 

"Yeah, yeah," she giggles.

It doesn't take long for her to drift off.

***

When Veronica walks into Hannah's house, she didn't expect people to be laughing. But they are, standing around in formal black dresses or blouses and smiling. Hannah waves at her from across the room. Sucking in a breath, she makes her way past a table with pamphlets on it, Caroline's picture staring back at her. Around her, the room fills with light chatter and other low voices, as if their words are heavy from grief itself.

"Veronica, how nice of you to show up."

She whips around and almost faints when seeing who spoke.

"You're Melissa, right?"

The woman, who could be an older carbon copy of Caroline, gives her a tight smile and nods. Someone walks up to Veronica and offers her a glass of wine, which she barely acknowledges. "Maybe we should take this somewhere... less public?"

"Yes, okay."

She follows her outside, where two soft chairs frame a glass table. Sipping the alcohol for the sake of comfort, she sits on the edge of one of the chairs and waits for her to speak. Few people stand outside, and those that do are at least six feet from them.

"I didn't kill her. I didn't kill Caroline," Veronica blurts. Melissa raises a brow and folds her hands in front of her. "Amanda did- or... Peggy, as most people know her. She was working for Caroline in a way, and killed her because of money and-" Melissa holds up a hand to stop her.

"You don't need to prove your innocence, Sawyer. After all, everyone is innocent until proven guilty, isn't that right?"

Veronica sips her wine and nods; she tries to conceal her nerves. The glass almost slips out of her hand from how sweaty her palms are.

"So tell me, how'd you get that Heather Duke girl to take the place that should be yours?" Her tone comes off light but there's no mistaking the anger that laces it.

"Uh, I don't think I should-"

Melissa waves it off. "Of course, of course, you can't reveal whatever little plan you and Jason Dean put together. It's stupid to ask that of the next Bonnie and Clyde, let's see... Westerburg High School sweethearts?"

Veronica gulps and drums her fingers against her leg.

"Oh, how are you doing with the amnesia?" Melissa asks as if she's interested.

"O-Okay, I guess. I don't remember anything, but I do remember a lot more than I did. I know about the deal, by the way." She returns the tight, forced smile.

"Ah. Quite the footage."

"It's gone." Veronica's voice takes them both by surprise, the faux smile dropping. "I destroyed it. I want this to be over. I'm sorry for what we did in high school, and I'm sorry about Caroline. But if this is how we're going to play- a life for a life- then I think I've moved my chess piece." She glances around and lowers her voice. "I killed Amanda. I didn't mean to, but I did. And I know that she killed Caroline."

"You think you know it all, don't you? You think you know how it all goes. I'll tell you this, Sawyer." Melissa sits across from her and leans forward, every trace of friendliness gone. "When you lose somebody, or when something happens that leaves you with nothing but fear and pain and grief... you'd do anything to have what you had before, to have it back. It drives you crazy. You start to think the only thing that will make you feel better is to make someone else go through that pain. To make the person who caused it pay.

"But the truth is, it won't bring them back. It won't fix whatever was broken or replace the lost. No life will bring back another." She chuckles as Veronica sips her wine. "No, but sometimes you settle for someone else's pain because you don't want to be drowning in it alone."

"So... you're saying you've enjoyed knowing I'm miserable...?"

She laughs and leans back. "You're funny, Sawyer. Real funny. You and Caroline would have been great friends."

"We were, for a little while, believe it or not." Veronica downs the rest of the wine and sets the glass down. "How's my Evelyn?"

"Your Evelyn?" Melissa snorts. "She's at home with a sitter. The real memorial was weeks ago, but I was curious to see the one you college kids would put on."

"And what do you think?"

"I think-"

"Melissa!" A woman Veronica doesn't recognize approaches with a warm smile. She takes that as her cue to leave and gives a frank nod. Weaving her way through the people, she finds Hannah and Isaac on the couch with a couple of other clinic kids and sits down. Isaac offers her a beer.

Melissa's words run through her mind. The cold condensation on the bottle refreshes her; the whole time sitting with the woman had felt like an interrogation. The group makes light conversation for the next few hours, nibbling on- and throwing- chips. Plenty of people dab at their eyes with tissues, and the sad music doesn't help. Without the laughter, she would be joining in on the sobbing.

While Hannah says goodbye to everyone and packs up the leftover food, Veronica finds Melissa again.

"Please, tell me how she is."

"What?"

"Evelyn. My daughter. Is she happy? Is she safe?" Her eyes widen in plead, glossed over with worry.

"A mother isn't always who gives birth but who raises them, who loves them. She's fine."

"I do love her! I-"

Melissa sighs. "Don't make a spectacle. And you've never met her. Goodbye, Sawyer. Do tell your mother I say hello, and I'll see you-"

Veronica finishes for her. "In court."

***

"I have to drop a couple of things off at the school, do you want a ride?"

"Yeah, I'm getting off for an uh... a place a few minutes away from the school. Can I drive?"

Hannah shrugs and tosses her the keys, sliding into the passenger seat. Veronica starts the car and starts towards the place she dreads, a concrete building filled with chairs, talking, sorrow, and fellow alcoholics.

"How have you been?"

"Alright, I guess." She adjusts the review mirror. The anxiety when driving has eased, though the doubts it will ever fully leave.

"Are you doing better? I mean, no offense, but you were kind of... in a slump last time. Then asking for Peggy's laptop..."

"I know, and you can say it, I was a mess. I still am. But... now I know what's at stake, I guess."

Hannah nods and sifts through the papers in her lap. "How are you and Jason? Going out yet?" A curious and knowing look crosses her face, followed by a smirk.

"We're fine. And no, we aren't dating. It's... complicated."

"All relationships are complicated," she sighs. Veronica drums her fingers against the steering wheel and nods in agreement. "That's why you have to decide which you want to pursue, which people are worth your time. When I met Isaac..." she goes on about the topic, but her words fade to background noise.

The colors of the road, street signs, lights, and buildings start to blur together. Veronica blinks several times. That method doesn't work more than once.

"...Something happens to you that leaves you with nothing but pain and grief... your daughter?.... you've never met her.... don't let me down!"

"Veronica!"

When her vision focuses, there isn't time to swerve.


	31. Kill This Love

Stumbling out of a cop car, Veronica pulls her phone out, greeted by several missed texts. She hadn't wanted to worry him when there was nothing he could have done from there.

\- I'm back early. I'm so sorry.

Then, she leans over the grass and pukes. This has to be a dream; is she stupid enough to do something like this in reality? Wiping her glossy eyes with the back of her shaking hand, she trudges up the stairs and bursts into the room.

"I'm sorry. JD, I... I screwed up." So much for bringing her crying to an end. The room spins. She blinks and the next moment she's in his arms sobbing, still trembling. "The nightmares- it- it almost happened again... I'm sorry."

"What happened?" He can feel her heart pounding against his chest. The look in her eye is all too familiar, the flash of panic that sunk in moments prior to the crash. There had been no control at that point, and the windshield shattered seconds later. That fear will always be associated with spinning and pain.

Her chest heaves and grip tightens like if she doesn't hold on tight enough he'll disappear and she'll be alone. She continues to blubber for the next few minutes. When the fear starts to shrink away and her crying eases, leaving her with a growing headache and stinging eyes, she takes a step back and sits on the edge of the counter, scanning the room and looking everywhere but at him.

"DUI," she blurts.

"What?" He lets out a small, dry laugh and watches her fiddle with her hands.

"I got a DUI. I wasn't drunk, I swear! I... I had a couple of beers and some wine, and then I waited so that I could drive. B-But then Melissa and I... talked, and I snuck into one of the bedrooms and downed the rest of my vodka- I couldn't not!"

"Wait, you brought vodka? Veronica-"

"I know, I know. I needed it, though! And then I thought I could drive and... I lost control of the car. No one got hurt, but a cop saw and I had to call my dad to pay bail. I wasn't over the limit-"

"You were still intoxicated, goddammit!" He runs his fingers through his hair and shakes his head at her in disbelief. "Why would you even get in the car? And I thought you were done hiding alcohol- hell, you were on your way to an AA meeting."

"I know! I'm sorry, but do you understand how nerve-wracking it is to talk to the person who took your child and had you almost killed? I was stressed and-"

"If you drink every time you feel stressed you're never going to get anywhere! The same thing goes if you keep lying about it!" He exhales and walks into the living room. She hops down from the counter, following with tears threatening to spill over again.

"I'm sorry, okay? It was stupid."

"Damn right, it was stupid." He throws her another look, one she can't pinpoint the meaning of. "Why are you being so reckless all of a sudden? You have more to lose than ever and you're killing yourself!"

She scoffs, "I'm not being reckless. I made one mistake!"

"One?" He deadpans.

"Okay, fine, more than one. But I'm going to get better-"

"When?" It comes out as a shout- one that startles her. The fear returns in a new form. "You're going in circles, Veronica! Duke's in jail, it's over. The case is closed."

She freezes. "That's good, right?"

"Yeah, it's good because we aren't being investigated or arrested for murder."

"That means we're going to have a new final..." she lets out a groan and massages her temple. The tension between them weighs on her chest, and she doesn't bother trying to sit still. Anger, frustration, and pain refuse to. They buzz, race, or send her shaking, but she has to move.

"Veronica... you're..." he trails off and turns away from her for a moment.

"I'm a mess, I've heard. What do you want me to do about it?" She meant it half-jokingly, but a wince crosses her face when seeing his expression. "I'm-"

"I want you to think for one goddamn second! About what you're doing, where you're going, and how it's hurting you and everyone else. You weren't the only person in that car today."

"I know, she isn't hurt-"

"That isn't the point! You've been in a frickin' car crash before and you still decide to drink and drive? One moment you're stuck in your head and terrified of losing everything again and the next you're ready to throw it all away. I don't get it."

"Exactly! You don't get it!" She paces the length of the room. "You don't understand how hard it is to stop, or how much I feel like I need it. So stop acting like it's my choice-"

"It is your choice!" He can't help but scream it at her. "This is all your damn choice! It was your choice to lie for days and days while getting worse and continue to sneak alcohol. It's your choice to get in a car after knowing you-"

"So what, it's my fault that I'm struggling?!"

"No. But it is your fault if you drag everyone else down with you because you don't want to put in the work."

She glares, folding, and then unfolding her arms. "I'm trying to get help-"

"You're not! Have you gone to one meeting? Gotten rid of one bottle?"

"I am! It's hard-"

"I know how alcoholics work, Veronica, I grew up with one. You're going off the deep end and I'm telling you right now that the best chance you have at getting better is when you have motivations, whether those are relationships or school."

"Is that why you're so mad about this?" She puts a hand on his arm to make him look at her when he turns away. "I'm not an alcoholic, and I don't know what you want me to say!"

He groans in frustration. "I'm not mad-"

"Sure," she laughs. "You're just screaming at me about how I'm an alcoholic who doesn't care about getting better. What happened today won't happen again, alright?"

She thinks the conversation is over, but he turns, sighs, and then says, "you can't promise that."

"What?!" Her face twists into a scowl. "Who's going in circles now? You said-"

"You have no damn control over it! Why the hell is that so hard for you to wrap your head around?! You had no control today and until you get help you're not going to be in control of yourself. That's it. It's a downward spiral, Veronica."

"Funny how you care about me enough to try and convince me to get help, but you're more concerned about the fact I almost got arrested than that I could have gotten hurt." She scoffs, breathing heavier and nails digging into her palm.

"Are you serious?! That's what this entire thing is about, that you could have gotten hurt or been in a crash because-"

"Because I was drinking!" She screams back. "I know! You told me! Maybe you should worry more about getting our daughter back then my issues!"

"Do you think I'm not worried about that? That's why you need to realize what you're doing-"

"I'm aware of what I'm doing!" Fresh tears roll down her already red cheeks. "I'm the one who could have lost everything again. Do you think I want this? To be broke, on the verge of being kicked out of school, failing, and having to depend on everyone else?!

"I-"

"I never asked you to help me!"

"What do you want me to say, Veronica? Do you think it's easy to sit by and watch you kill yourself, knowing how you used to be-"

"Who I used to be?" She scoffs and wrings out her hands, once again clenching her hands into fists. "Believe me, I'd bring her back too. And look!" Her face falls as she throws her hands up. "We're going in circles again!" He exhales; she stops pacing.

"It's how we always were," she sniffles.

"Don't do this-"

"If I don't, we never will! I'm sorry that you don't like to talk about the past- neither do I- but it's this! This is what's going to destroy us again!"

"Again?" He raises a brow at her.

"Don't act like we were the "high school sweethearts" prom couple everyone thought we were! Are we ever going to talk about anything that happened? I mean, we talk about killing three people like we're chatting about what we had for breakfast!"

The next few seconds of silence are unbearable.

She swallows the lump in her throat before speaking again. "What about after the crash? You had your fair share of girls after, how do I know you're not going to... dispose of me like that once you've had enough?"

He tries to keep his voice level and looks her in the eye. "We both know this is different."

"It's not different! And what's the plan, Jason? We have our fun with each other and then never speak again?"

An ache blossoms in her shoulders, causing her to wince. As much as she tries, she can't relax her muscles or lessen the tension in her body.

"We can't make a "plan" right now. Maybe one case is closed, one battle is won, but now we have all the Evelyn stuff-"

"I'm going to call an attorney tonight. You may have to testify in front of a judge, and... we'll get shared custody or something. I'll get a job, move out after I have enough for a place and you'll never have to see me again." She blinks in an attempt to ease the stinging pain in her eyes and tries to keep her lips and shoulders from trembling. "That's what you want, isn't it?"

He slams his hand down on the counter hard enough to make her jump. "You're acting like leaving you in that hospital room was a choice!"

"Maybe it was!" She screams, not bothering to hide her heartbreak anymore. "Maybe you knew it was better if we were apart, or I was broken before the crash and you'd had enough! Or something was wrong with me-"

"Nothing was wrong with you, goddammit! And none of what you're saying is what I want or ever wanted! And how would that plan work out, you're in school."

She shrugs. "It'd be a sacrifice, but it isn't like I'm going to graduate anyway!"

"What?" He shakes his head, unable to believe her. "You better be joking."

"Why do you care what I do?"

"You're unbelievable sometimes, Veronica."

"I'll add it to the list!" She snaps, grabbing a pen and notepad from the table and waving it in front of him. "Here! We'll act like a middle-aged divorced couple and make one of those color-coded custody schedules! I'll start drawing the boxes-"

"Are you delusional?" He rips the items from her hand and throws them on the couch. "We're still in this together, hell we have a damn kid to think of!"

"That's why we need to do better! And stop trying to be the people we wish we had been so that we can focus on who we are and communicate!"

"I-" He gives her something between a scoff and a laugh. "You're making it sound like this is some kind of... commitment, a contract we signed. We aren't-"

"Together?" Genuine hurt flashes in her eyes. "I know. We're different people now, we know what not to do. If we look at this like some kind of second chance-"

"What are you saying? We aren't... bound together by the past, Veronica." 

"What I'm saying is... wouldn't we want to do something differently this time?" She sniffles and wipes her eyes with the back of her hand.

"This time- we were tricked into signing adoption papers, not a marriage agreement! There is no "this time," we don't know how things will play out. I'm by your side, 'Ronica, I am and aways will be, but I-"

"But you don't want me like that, I get it!"

"What?"

She takes a step back, choking on a rising sob. "What about us? Is this how things are going to be forever? If so, It's better if I leave."

"Us? There is no us!" He chews his lip and then runs his fingers through his hair, tousling it slightly.

Veronica stays silent for a long moment, crying but not making a sound. Somehow, him not screaming it or even yelling it had made it hurt worse. She tries to swallow her nausea.

"So what am I to you?" It comes out in a whisper, but her her voice grows louder with each word. "A charity-case? Someone for a quick hangout, drink, and sex?"

"Veronica-"

"No, it's... it's fine. I was stupid for thinking everything I did. So say it. Say that you don't want me."

Her voice wavers on the third-to-last word and cracks on the last. She doesn't wait for him to say it; she's pushing past him and halfway out the door in seconds.

"I'll be back later. Don't... don't follow me." Brushing strands of hair that have stuck to her wet cheeks out of her face, she jogs downstairs with no destination in mind except one that isn't here.


	32. Recovery Has A Price

The slamming of a heavy, turquoise-colored door causes the heads of a group of people seated in a circle to look up. Veronica winces, realizing all attention has fallen on her.

"Hi... am I too late?"

A woman in a formal blouse and skirts stands up. She assumes this is the host if these meetings have one.

"No, no, you're fine. My name's Angelica. Have a seat and we'll introduce you." Her smile seems genuine and friendly, but that does little to ease Veronica's nerves. She forces herself to nod and takes a seat. Every possible scenario runs through her mind. Are they judging her outfit, still formal and black from the memorial? Judging her face, red from crying with a thick layer of concealer under and around her eyes?

"Uh, my name's Veronica, I'm a student at Bloomington to be a lawyer... I have a daughter that I've never met but hope to see soon. That's... about it." She glances around, some of their expressions blank and some wearing soft smiles.

Angelica nods and leans back in her chair. "And what prompted you to join today?"

"A couple of things... Uhm, my... problem with drinking, it's straining a relationship with someone I love. I'm close to failing school, and I want to graduate more than anything. More importantly, I want my daughter back. I have to get sober to do that. I'm also struggling with drugs and signing up for a Narcotics Anonymous group."

A couple of people nod. She looks around and realizes that everyone looks older than her. What must they be thinking when seeing an alcoholic in her twenties?

"Well, I hope we can be part of your journey to getting sober." Angelica gives her another smile and then looks at the group as a whole.

"Who would like to start?"

***

By the end, Veronica is almost trembling from how much coffee she's had and her cheeks and stomach ache from laughter. When's the last time she had laughed like that? Tossing an empty coffee cup in the trash, she walks out of the building but stops in her tracks. Against the wall leans JD and a girl she recognizes as Peyton.

"Hey... what are you doing here?" She looks to the blonde next. "You two know each other?"

"So, you're Veronica Sawyer..." Peyton looks her up and down, bright green eyes darting around. A smirk tugs at her lips, one that says "I know something."

"Uh, did you know about me before-"

Peyton cuts her off. "Before AA? Oh, sure, I knew about you. But I have been wanting to meet you." She looks between them, nudges JD, and starts to walk away. "I'll let you two... talk."

Talking is one thing the two didn't get to for a while. Making out in the back of the car has the same result, right? They can't help it; the hours apart felt like an eternity.

"Mhm- I'm sorry about what-"

"Me too."

"I care about getting better," she mutters when they break apart for air. Her heart slams in her chest, pulse racing.

His hand slides down to her waist. "I know you do."

"Wait- can we-" she shifts and puts a hand on top of his. Their eyes meet for the first time, both anticipating hurt or at least a pang of regret. But all that surfaces is the relief that they're back together. "I don't want to be those people who... kiss and make up and never talk things out. I know it's uncomfortable but... Evelyn needs it."

He nods and leans back, drumming his fingers against her thigh.

"Care to tell me how you and Peyton know each other? Or how she knows who I am?" She raises a brow and folds her arms.

"We met a couple of months before you arrived. I think you guys would be friends-"

"Why? Because we're both alcoholics? Is she as broken as I am?" Sighing the moment those words are out, she fiddles with her hands. "Sorry. I jump to conclusions, I-"

"It's okay. And Ronnie, if you want to talk about the past, we can, but I think we should be cautious."

"It's fragile," she whispers. "I know." Swallowing, she rests a hand on top of his, which is still on her lower thigh. "Did you want to hurt me? When we were fighting, I mean."

"No."

She nods and licks her lips. "Uh, am I why you started cutting after the crash? That I was gone and you thought-"

"What?" He laughs at that assumption, not noticing the raw concern in her eyes or grip on his hand. "Nothing that I did after the crash- or before that- is or was your fault. And who said I started doing that after? None of it is because of you."

"How did you not... get in too deep? Like with alcohol and stuff? I wish I'd known how to stop."

"It isn't easy. You have to remember that you don't need it, that it's not your friend. It's an enemy disguised as an ally."

She nods again and turns, sitting up with her head on his shoulder and propping her feet up under the window. Still holding a light grip on his hand, she runs her finger over the unmarked skin surrounding a maze of scars, some faint and some that look more recent. A rock forms in her chest. Trying not to touch them makes her realize how many there are.

"You're bad at taking your own advice sometimes, you know that?" Her fingers hover over the marks. "Can I?"

"So are you. And yeah, I don't care," he replies, though it does feel a bit weird to have someone scrutinizing what he used to try so hard to hide from the world.

She traces over one of the scars, wincing. "That's deep. I don't like it."

"I don't think anyone likes it," he doesn't meet her eye, not wanting to see the evident worry etched onto her face.

"Then why do you do it?" 

"Ronnie-"

"Sorry. I shouldn't-"

"No, it's fine. I just never want you to feel like this is an answer, alright?" He lifts her chin with two fingers.

"I know it isn't. That's why I want to know why you do this to yourself."

He sighs and lets her chin drop, shifting and resting his head on the window behind him. She resumes chewing her lip and sinks into the cool leather seats.

"Look, when you're spiraling, you turn to whatever you have. When you're alone and spiraling, you turn to something that will make you bleed."

"Are you spiraling now?" She puts a hand on his leg. Her stomach twists into a knot, every ounce of her craving honesty, and to fix something she can't. A part of her fears his answer. What if he had been recently and her own problems blinded her ability to see past them?

"No. It's a habit, it's a way to keep yourself-"

"Somewhere bad!" Her throat closes up and eyes start to sting. "As you said, no one likes it, no one wants to stay in that... black hole of pain that makes you resort to something like that. But every time-"

"You forget you're in it, Veronica. It becomes normal. It seeps into your life and then becomes just another thing. It doesn't help you, it doesn't hurt you, it just is."

"But it does hurt you. And it hurts me, too." Her eyes glisten with tears. He sighs and draws his lower lip between his teeth. "This isn't living. It's like an addiction, you get trapped. I know this isn't my place to ask, but are you still on meds? Or in therapy?"

"I was on... a couple of things... no, I'm not taking anything right now. It isn't worth the side effects. Therapy... sometimes. When I need it."

"Okay." she clears her throat in an attempt to stop crying and breathe clearly. "Okay. I want you to talk to me, Alright? Especially if things get bad-"

"I will," He reassures her. She pecks him on the lips and then sits up, climbing into the passenger seat.

"We don't have to be anywhere soon, right?"

He shrugs. "I don't think so."

"Ah." She climbs back into the back seat and lets a smirk emerge on her face. "Then screw it."

They don't talk after that.

***

TWO WEEKS LATER

Therapy, meetings, more talking than ever, and a newer routine proved to do some good. Veronica had managed to get caught up in some of her classes, trading in booze for iced coffee and all-nighters for a half-decent sleep schedule. Today, instead of going back to the apartment or to a local coffee shop to study, she knocks on the thick wood of an office door and shifts her weight from foot to foot.

"Come in."

Veronica steps inside. "Hi, Ms. Winters..."

Her professor raises a brow from behind her desk. "What do you need?"

"Uh, I know that I have no right to be asking you for help after everything-"

"But you are," she deadpans.

Veronica gives a sheepish nod. "I'm trying to get my daughter back, and I'm also recovering from a lot... I don't know how it's going to go or if I'm going to be laughed at for even proposing the idea. I get that I haven't been the most responsible, and I'm not the top student, but this... this is more than school."

Winters sighs but keeps her eyes on Veronica, attention captured without the younger woman knowing why.

"-But I feel like this is a chance for me. And I want her back more than anything in the world."

She taps her foot until Winters holds a hand up. "You don't have to beg. It takes guts to admit you need help, Sawyer. I'll give you that."

"I'm getting help. Therapy, NA meetings, AA meetings, journaling, meds... I threw out the booze and the drugs. All I want in the world is to have her back."

Winters walks around her and exits the office, motioning for Veronica to follow her down the hallway.

"This is going to be a case based on emotion and what is best for the child, not for you. You're going to need to prove why-"

"Evelyn-"

"-Evelyn would be better off under your care and not whoever is currently her guardian." They turn the corner and start down a different hallway. "Find out things about them that will raise red flags about them caring for a child. Everything's about Evelyn's best interests, not yours, not the father's, and not the current caretaker's."

Veronica nods, hurrying to keep up. Their heels clicking against the floor echo off the walls.

"Bring a sob story. Make them feel, but don't make yourself sound incapable."

"H-How am I supposed to do all of that? One wrong word and-"

"And it's over." Winters nods, noticing the tension in Veronica's shoulders. Even the evident stress does little to convey just how much pressure she feels. More than one person's future will be decided in hours, and she doesn't get to be one of the people determining it.

"No pressure." Veronica lets out a nervous laugh. Winters mirrors her actions, but there isn't a hint of nervousness in her voice.

"Tons of pressure." She sucks in a breath and raises a brow. They stop walking in front of a small room. "You ready?"

Veronica takes a deep breath.

Then, she nods and follows her inside.

***

THE DAY BEFORE COURT

Stepping into the apartment, Veronica almost falls to her knees. One hand grasps for her phone inside her pocket. She takes it out but freezes.

No. The world goes still around her but her heart rate increases. Falling, falling, falling. One moment she's standing in the kitchen, the next she's going down on a roller coaster.

A bottle of booze sits on the counter. It seems to glare at her; she swears it would be laughing if it could. She hadn't bought it, meaning someone else- the answer smacks her in the face: Melissa. If she drinks, it's over. Meaning Melissa gets what she wants.

One. Breathe. Two. Breathe. Three. Breathe.

How does Melissa know where she's staying? How does she know about the drinking?

Shoving all thoughts of the bottle from her mind, Veronica sits down and studies until picking up her phone and walking down the beach. The place where she had smoked and realized she had fallen in love, the cliff by the beach, is empty when she arrives.

Water glistens under her, swirling and greeting her flailing body with cold pain that slices through any human flesh that meets it.


	33. I Love You

"I'm telling you, she didn't write it," Jason insists, struggling to hold the attention of the cop in front of him. "It isn't even her handwriting!"

"Sir, it's too early to come to any conclusions-"

"She didn't write it; she was doing better! People don't throw themselves off ledges when they're doing better!" He rakes his fingers through his hair and turns to the water, where beams of light slice through the darkness, bouncing on the swirling ocean and glistening rocks below. Pellets of rain soak through their clothes. People shout, pacing the area, and straining to see past the rain. Another officer walks towards a car holding a plastic bag with a piece of paper peeking through it.

The suicide note. It had been sitting there with no trace of Veronica. The words echo in his mind, but it's proven to be impossible to picture Veronica saying anything that had been written.

The next couple of hours are filled with chaos, movement, and fear. "Veronica" had stated not to let the press get involved in the note. She wouldn't have wasted space writing that, he decides. Why would she even jump? Before this, she had seemed the happiest he'd seen her.

Approaching a woman who looks as confused as he is, she looks up with a raised brow.

"Professor Winters, right?" The rain blurs their vision as it starts coming down harder- and audibly, pounding on the roofs of police cars. "Did you see her? Or talk to her? Was she-"

"I talked to her earlier. She was prepping for the trial the entire time. She seemed so set on this..."

"I know. She was ready. She wouldn't throw it all away, especially not this close to tomorrow."

He wipes rain from his face and turns back to the crowd. The sun has begun to set, the blend of colors across the landscape one of the few things to look at that doesn't come with a wave of devastation that runs deeper than the ocean.

As they move down to the beach, a figure emerges from the increasing darkness. Before he can get a glimpse of her face, a girl throws herself into his arms, her hair tangled and damp, clothes soaked and skin ghost pale. The surrounding noise mixes together: her whimpers and words, the screaming sirens of a nearby ambulance, the crashes of the ocean, and shouts of officers' orders. He can tell it's Veronica from a glance when she steps back, her face contorted in pain at first. When their eyes meet, their words do as well, speaking in unison and struggling to make their voices heard over the wind and rain, now close to hail.

"I love you."

The shouting moves closer and grows louder. He runs his hands down her arms, surprised she isn't frozen from how cold she is. They don't ask questions, instead, sharing an earth-shattering kiss before they drag her to an ambulance.

"Shoot me!" She screams, tears mixing with the rain. "It hurts- shoot me, it hurts!" Trying to tear away from the paramedic's grip to no avail, she screams so loud you'd think someone DID shoot her. "Don't let them! It hurts, please, it hurts!"

Sharp pain slices through her arm, earning another scream before everything fades to black for Veronica.

~*~

"I got here as soon as I could!" Heather McNamara bursts into the waiting room, pulling Jason into a hug and kissing him on the cheek. Then she flops down in one of the almost painfully hard chairs- she can feel the backache coming on in seconds- and pulling her hoodie down to reveal frizzy hair, droplets of rain clinging to the front strands. Her lips curl into a smile.

"How is she?"

He exhales and takes a seat next to her. "She's asleep still. A couple of broken bones and some sprains, but she's alive."

"Miraculously. How far up did she fall from?"

"I have no idea how far up it is, but if you know how to jump, you could survive... but since someone pushed her, I don't know what angle she fell at." He takes another deep breath, resting his head in his hands and ignoring Heather's concerned look.

"What happened?" She whispers.

"I don't know, Heather. I don't know."

She draws her bottom lip between her teeth and rests a hand on his arm, letting out a small gasp when she realizes what her fingers have brushed.

"She wouldn't want this," she mumbles, taking his hand and drawing his attention to the marks, too deep to be unintentional. "She told me in high school that things get better, that feelings pass. Saved my life. It doesn't make sense."

"Hmm? Stop talking about her like she's dead, and I think we have bigger things to worry about."

"I'm not-" Heather cuts herself off with a sigh, knowing he's too stubborn for convincing. Turning away, she lets her eyes roam the rest of the hospital. Jason takes this time to study the blonde next to him.

Her thin, pink lips remain parted, her hair the same length it had been when they last saw each other. Heather, the girl who made him feel like he had stood at the top of the world at the beach that day, with her tanned skin and bright, contagious smile as she had pelted him with water and thrown her head back to laugh when he did the same. Heather, who always brought on too many emotions to keep straight, from betrayal and guilt to the freest he's ever felt. At least, at that moment he thought that's what those feelings meant.

McNamara had needed to show someone she's different than Duke or Chandler. She'd needed to break the shackles of having the first name she does. JD had helped her do that.

But helping each other through grief isn't enough to build a relationship on, let alone maintain a healthy one. And here they sit, drenched in awkward silence with a thousand thoughts and memories threatening to spill out of their mouths at the wrong time.

A nurse emerges from Veronica's room, causing them both to raise their heads.

When the nurse passes, their lips connect. It takes mere seconds for them to stumble into a storage closet, still kissing eagerly but without passion. Their hearts break every second of it because the longing she uses as a filler for a passion that she knows wouldn't be returned will take her nowhere.

"I knew I would see you here and... I can't stop thinking about it all," she whispers when they break off. Her breath hitches when his lips brush her neck. "I know it was temporary, and you wanted her, and I was like a small piece of her, but... I want to let it go but I can't!"

"Heather-"

"You make me feel like I'm a somebody! And everything's... right. It all fits, and I feel like I'm flying for a second, and then I think about Veronica and- I love you, alright?"

"Heather..." When he detaches his lips from hers, the room fills with silence. Painful, awkward silence. She removes her arms from around him and presses herself against the wall. Inevitable hurt flashes in her eyes. "She's the best thing that ever happened to me."

"I know," she says, holding up a hand. "I know that you two are in love; anyone who sees you guys knows that. I want to get over it but I can't! I-"

"Heather, stop," he hisses, running his fingers through his hair and grasping for words that won't tear her heart out. "I... those moments were when I was-"

"When you were missing Veronica. I know. You don't want me." She blinks back tears, hating herself for crying when she'd anticipated the heartbreak when she had walked in the door. "I just had to tell you. I'm married and you're in love with someone else, but if I let myself leave without telling you," she sniffles, "I'd be killing myself every day."

"We don't have to stop communicating-"

"We do! It's easier that way. I don't like having each other for comfort and nothing else when I know I shouldn't be falling but I do anyway. I hate faking it. I spend my whole high school years faking a smile, so don't make me spend my adult ones doing it too."

She opens the door before he can reply, keeping her eyes on the floor. "I need some air. I'll be back in a minute."

When she hurries out of the hospital, he hunts down a nurse and negotiates until they allow him into the room that immediately makes his chest tighten.

Veronica lays on the bed, staring at the ceiling and looking more bored than anything. She turns her head when he walks in, a small but pained smile tugging at her lips. They kiss, and she attempts to sit up, wincing.

"I'm sorry if I scared you, I was in a lot of pain. Now I feel all floaty," she says the last part with a giggly, childish smile. He runs his finger down her cheek, stopping to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and then kissing her forehead. She tilts her head in admiration and concern. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I hate seeing you in pain." He traces her knuckles when she takes his hand, relaxing a bit.

"I'm okay now. Lay with me." She pulls him down next to her and waits for him to say something, concern growing by the second when he lets her rest her head on his shoulder but doesn't.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'll... be right back." He squeezes her hand and stands, walking out of the room and towards the door before-"

"Don't do this to me!" Heather runs into him in the hall- literally. Her mascara is smudged around her eyes, dripping down her cheeks and masking her in reminders of their youth and her first heartbreak when she looks in the mirror. "I- we-"

"Stop. Heather, go home," he pleads.

"But-"

"This isn't what she needs right now! Go home-"

"No. No, I'm not leaving. I need to tell you-"

"Leave, Heather! I'm sorry that things are hard for you right now-"

She cuts him off with a glare. "When have they not been hard?! I'm not looking for a shoulder to cry on anymore. I want more, and all I'm asking is if you'd consider-"

"I can't give you more, Heather! I love Veronica! And you'll find someone-"

"Stop!" She chokes on a sob and turns to walk away. "You... you don't know. Go take care of Veronica. I hope you two are happy." 

"Heather! Wait, H-" he watches her disappear, the heavy doors slamming behind her just like the door between them, which he knows will remain locked from this day forward, sealing off the friendship, the trust, and the bond they shared during those months. Losing those things and that precious and rare relationship to an ocean of heartbreak had been a nightmare that's now a painful reality.

He enters Veronica's hospital room again, thoughts racing a mile a minute and expression drawing her attention when he lays next to her.

"Hey. What happened?"

"Nothing." He shakes his head, "nothing you need to worry about. How do you feel?"

"Like you aren't telling me something." The hospital drugs seep into her voice, causing some of her words to merge together and slurring her speech and talking speed.

"Ronnie, I'm not the one laying in a hospital bed," he retorts. She raises a brow at the surfacing defensiveness.

"I still think something else happened-"

"Why does something else have to happen?" He snaps. "This entire night shouldn't have happened! You shouldn't be in a hospital, none of this..." he trails off and runs his fingers through his hair for what has to be the fifth time, she notices. A silence falls over them, accompanied by awkwardness. "What happened?"

"I didn't jump! Melissa, it was Melissa, you have to believe me!" The volume of her voice rises with each word, voice laced with desperation. "She pushed me. I got a text from an unknown number saying to go there. I suspected her, and I thought she wanted to talk, so I went. Then I was falling-"

"Shh, alright, don't get yourself worked up. I believe you." Her face softens and shoulders slump in relief. "But are you sure Melissa pushed you?"

"Yes!" She exclaims, recalling the glimpse of blonde hair she saw prior to falling.

"There was a suicide note," he adds, approaching the topic with caution in fear it will get her worked up again. "You didn't-"

"I didn't write it!"

"Okay." He kisses her softly, inducing her to smile. For a moment her anxieties withdraw and a sense of peace washes over. They're together; they're alive; they're in love. Heat rises in her cheeks and she looks away, though there isn't much to look at. The white tile floors, blank walls, and beeping machines don't provide a sight of much intrigue.

"I'm still going to court tomorrow."

He groans and tilts his head back. "Veronica Sawyer, don't start, you can't-"

"Jason Dean, don't start, I can and I will." She folds her arms and tries not to wince when her arms brush her aching ribs. "If anything it will show how bad I want this! If I'm there despite everything-"

"You've been here for hours. Recovery takes time, Ronnie. If you get hurt again-"

"How am I going to get hurt on a stand?! I'll be sitting or standing still the whole time," she insists. "Don't you want to meet your daughter?"

"And here come the guilt trips," he says under his breath, leaning back and closing his eyes. She scoffs, too riled up to calm down but knowing how exhausted they are behind the banter.

"Court's still on tomorrow; let's leave it at that." She throws him a stern look, a warning not to press it right now. "Try to get some sleep, alright?"

But sleep and tragedy don't agree with each other, and peace and calamity will always be a contrast. They had learned that before they even graduated. Either the night will be restless of plagued with nightmares, images of disturbances that hold a relation to the earlier events.

"I don't think that's possible." He throws her a glance and wraps an arm around her shoulders, pressing a light kiss to her cheek.

"I know, but try." She leans back, attempting sleep herself. Around ten minutes later, she nudges him, chewing her lip to the point of blood and digging her nails into her palms.

"Alright, look. What are you afraid of happening?"

She blinks, confused about how that is going to help. "I guess that I'll lose my memories again, that it will all happen again when I was getting better."

"If you haven't already realized you can't remember anything, why would you lose it all? And you didn't hit your head, did you?"

She shakes her head.

"Then I don't think it's going to happen. It defies logic." He brushes hair out of her face.

"O-Okay," she gulps, still squeezing his hand. "And what if I lose tomorrow?"

He sighs, bringing her hand to his lips. "I can't tell you how tomorrow will go. But it isn't the end, and even if tomorrow doesn't go the way we want, it doesn't mean things never will."

"They never do seem to," she mutters, snuggling into his chest. "I've come to the conclusion the universe hates us." Resting her eyes in front of her, her brow furrows when she notices the familiar marks and a sigh escapes her lips.

"It's been a long night," he whispers, eyes closed again. She scoots up and kisses his cheek.

"I know. I'm so sorry." A sigh escapes her lips, and she kisses him again, this time for longer and with everything in her. It's now or never for them, with the possibility of tragedy looming over them and the unknown posing a threat to everything they've built. His hand slides down to her waist, hers wrapped around him. Their lips move in sync until they break apart, slightly out of breath.

She tugs at the IV until he stops her. "I think I have a way to prove I can stand through court." She throws the sheet off of herself and releases his hand, once again messing with the IV and this time succeeding to get it off. He sighs and stands to steady her.

"You don't need to prove it, Veronica. What are you-"

"Phone," she orders. He sets it in her hand and tries to get her to lay back down. Instead, she turns music on, setting the phone on the small tray next to the bed and intertwining their hands again. Rain pounds against the windows, adding a layer of tranquility to the fearful atmosphere of the hospital.

A smile tugs at her lips as he spins her. The lined tile floors swirl around her feet like a whirlpool in sync with her steps. Devastation doesn't stand a chance to take over these moments. As the room passes by, everything merging together more with each twirl, she experiences a different kind of falling.

After being pushed from the ledge, she had fallen with the end in mind- the moment she would hit the water. When being wheeled away after the crash, darkness enclosed her and prevented her from seeing where she would end up. But this falling comes with the solid ground beneath her feet. She sinks into her own world but remains stable in reality.

Leaning in, she focuses on their steady breaths and the feel of soft skin pressed together where their hands meet; the temptation to kiss lays between them. The walls and objects morph into images of herself and the two of them.

Images of the future- the future she could have.

She sees a wedding, a house with a little girl running around, and a view that isn't the one she awakens to every morning. Something new and something that leaves her heart aching with longing and a sweet taste in her mouth. When stumbling over her own feet brings her back to the moment, she lets three words spill from her mouth as they fall into a gentle sway.

"I love you," she says, words slurred as if she's drunk on euphoria. Not falling, she realizes. Flying. She wraps her arms around him, a bit of color back in her face compared to the pallid color of it earlier. He kisses the top of her hair and rests his chin on her head.

"I love you more than anything." 

"So, have I proven I'm capable of being on the stand, or do I have to perform a broadway number?"

Before he can answer a nurse walks in. Her brows slope when observing the scene in front of her, a clipboard in one hand. Veronica turns to her, still in Jason's arms with her eyes half-shut.

After a brief check-in and the long-awaited permission to leave, they drive back to the apartment, stopping to pick up fast-food. She glares at the bag of painkillers they sent her home with.

"You trust me with pills?" He drums his fingers against the steering wheel. She sighs and shifts her position, now resting her head against the cold window and popping fries into her mouth.

"Not with an entire bottle," he admits. "But you'll only be taking a few a day until you feel better. We can-"

"Get me one of those trays that will make me feel like I'm a senior citizen with bad joints? Thanks."

He rolls his eyes and puts a hand on her thigh, feeling her hand on top of his. Entering inside, they both let out groans or sighs, tossing the keys down and either rubbing their temples or yawning.

"Want to catch up on our show?" She flops down on the couch, wincing.

"Alright, first, no jumping around if you want to heal. I don't want to have to drive back to the hospital tonight."

"You sound like my mom," she groans. "I spent hours resting, I don't want to-"

He cuts her off in a more serious tone. "Veronica."

She rolls onto her side and then drags herself off the couch, trudging to the bedroom and pulling her shirt off.

"Like what you see?" She teases when seeing him in the doorway.

"Always," he replies.

She pulls a clean shirt over her head and unbuttons her jeans. "You're scared; we both are. Maybe we should stop covering it up with kisses and talk."

"And what are we scared of?" He sighs, folding his arms. The golden light spilling from the attached bathroom brings out the bags under his eyes more than the fluorescent ones did.

"What aren't we scared of?" She finishes tying the strings on pajama pants and shuffles over. "Everything can be gone in seconds. And after-"

"You can't live in fear because having something means the possibility of losing it, Ronnie."

"Getting Evelyn back causes a whole new string of threats! Have you thought about the horrible things that could-"

"I've thought about every horrible thing you can name." He grabs her shoulders gently. "Listen. The Chandlers hit us on purpose, right?"

She gives a small nod.

"It wasn't our fault and it wasn't an accident. It was somebody who wanted to hurt other people so they did. And obsessing over the things that could happen won't destroy the possibility of them happening."

She nods again. "But what if we get Evelyn back and Melissa's pissed?"

"She'll be in jail for attempted murder," he responds, looking at her like she forgot something obvious.

Veronica shifts her weight from foot to foot, removing his hands from her arms and biting her lip. "Uhm, I don't think I want to bring what happened today to court."

"What? Why-"

"If I bring it up she'll tell them about the video. Even though it's destroyed," she adds, knowing his next question before he can ask it. "It will take that and Duke cracking and explaining what happened to get us thrown in jail. The case is so old they just want it to be done with and closed."

"That's why you don't want to say anything? Veronica, she tried to kill you-"

"I know that, Jason. But once I graduate, I'll know what I'm doing and I'll be able to get her in jail for something, whether that's murder or something small."

They leave the bedroom and walk back into the kitchen.

"You don't have to agree with me about it. There's nothing written in stone saying that we always have to agree." They turn to each other, and she lets her hand fall down the front of his chest before sliding her hand into his. "But if you do love me... if you weren't lying earlier and we're going to trust each other and give this a chance... I'm asking that you don't do anything about this or find an attorney."

"I'm not going to if you really don't want it." He wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her closer. "I just hate it- what she did, what's happened..."

"I do too. But no more revenge games. No more fighting and no more death. No more fear."

"If we've been through hell, maybe we're on our way back now," he laughs. "And you're right. That fear's-"

"In the past. We're done living in the past, no matter how tomorrow goes." She closes the gap between them, melting into a kiss as if sealing a deal. 

Curled up in bed, the blankets a soft cocoon around them, she struggles to identify what this new feeling is. One of being free? Unshackled? Certainly not confidence... her nerves refuse to calm down. But whatever was broken-or has been put back together- leaves her floating once again, the images now in the form of dreams, ones that she focuses on instead of memories.

For once, she falls asleep in seconds.


	34. Gavels and Healing

Maybe Veronica had been able to fall asleep in seconds, but staying asleep proves to be a different story. She tosses and turns until the sun rises, light flooding into the room. Feeling the empty space next to her, she lets out a groan and covers her face with the pillow.

"It's too early."

"And she's alive," Jason teases her, pulling a shirt over his head and then rolling her over to kiss her cheek. She groans again and tries to pull him down next to her.

"Barely. Can't we just... lay here?" She buries her face in his shoulder, breathing in the fresh scent of mint body wash.

"I don't think laying here will do much to convince the judge." He plays with her hair until she uncovers her face and opens her eyes.

"What are you saying? "I'm tired and I think I might puke" isn't a good argument?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying."

It earns a sigh and yet another groan. "Fine, I'm up." She runs her fingers through her hair in a sad attempt to tame her bedhead. Dragging herself to the kitchen, she makes a cup of coffee and then returns to the bedroom to throw on what she hopes is court-appropriate.

The coffee cup almost slips from her grasp several times throughout the morning, due to her trembling hands. By the time she's dressed, drenched in lilac perfume, and has her hair in wavy curls, she's thrown up twice. Her nerves prove to be relentless as the morning drags on.

"You ready?"

"Are we?"

"What?" He raises a brow at her across the kitchen before walking over and kissing her. They deepen the kiss but break off, trying to kill the butterflies long enough to have a conversation. Both know those two words have more meaning behind them than the question itself.

"Do you think we're ready?" She doesn't give him a chance to answer. "I keep thinking... hell and back, right? Well, what if this is still a part of hell? What if-"

"What if we're on our way back?"

"This can go two very different ways-"

He shuts her up with another kiss. "I know, and no matter what, this- us- isn't going to change, alright?"

She forces herself to nod and they give each other a brief hug. Veronica grabs her bag and studies herself in the mirror one last time.

"I don't look like I almost died, right?"

"I never would have guessed it."

She gives a small nod. "Good. Let's go."

The car ride is filled with small, easy conversation that dodges the truth of their destination. But they can only avoid it until they reach the parking lot and the court sits in front of them. Veronica shifts in her seat, squeezing his hand like it's her lifeline. It feels like someone has strapped weights to her legs.

Winters greets them outside the courtroom, giving a professional nod. Veronica strains to find someone, biting her lip and turning to walk in when failing to spot them. Her stomach lurches the moment they sit down.

Melissa enters a moment later, lips stained pink and hair pulled into a low ponytail. Veronica forces her eyes on her lap to keep from revealing her glare. The next few minutes pass painfully slow.

"All rise!"

When everyone stands, she earns a glimpse of someone else sliding into a row across from her, someone she hadn't expected to come.

"My mom's here," she whispers to Jason, chewing her lip. "I didn't ask her to be."

"Maybe she came because she finally realized what she did," he whispers back. She raises a brow.

"Did you call her?"

"Nope."

Veronica presses her lips into a tight line and keeps her eyes ahead before the opening of the doors brings her gaze back to the back of the room. This time, that's where it stays. A man holding the hand of a young girl, wavy dark hair falling down to her shoulders and a lacy white dress on. She almost looks like a doll, her eyes wide and curious.

The man leads her to the seat next to Melissa and holds a finger to his lips. She lets out a shrill giggle before he shushes her again and Melissa looks down at her. When the man leaves, Veronica feels tears welling up in her eyes. It takes everything in her to stop staring.

"I call Veronica Sawyer to the stand."

Veronica stands up and forces her legs to move, meeting the eye of the nearby bailiff for a moment and walking up to the stand.

The court clerk gives her a small nod. "Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?"

"I do."

"Defense, you may call your first witness. State your full name for the record."

"Veronica Sawyer."

Veronica moves to the stand and folds her trembling hands on her lap. Every eye is glued on her- nervous ones that dart around and room and people who wait with sympathetic expressions.

The questions start out easy. She states simple facts about herself, not revealing anything unknown to those who know her. Then they turn to make her admit the things she regrets, childhood mistakes and things she knows are prompts for making it sound as if she can't care for a child.

"Objection, relevance?"

"Overruled."

Tears begin rolling down her cheeks about halfway through the questions. Winter's words echo in her mind. "This is all going to be based on two things: swaying the judge with emotion and proving you're capable of caring for a child."

"She was taken from me without my consent. I was told that the adaption forms were papers for me to get discharged from the hospital. I was still drugged; it was easy to take advantage of me."

Luna Olsen stands up. "The nurse watching over Veronica at the time- Tiffany, who's come to testify, can confirm she had drugs in her system at the time."

"Who lied and told you they were forms to get discharged?"

"Objection, argumentative."

"Sustained."

The opposing lawyer stifles a scoff and rephrases, "Who told you that they were hospital forms?" 

"My mom, Marianna," Veronica answers.

She nods. "And why would she l- why would she tell you that if they weren't real discharge forms?"

"She wasn't happy about the pregnancy," Veronica says. "She knew I wouldn't give the baby up, so she did it without my consent."

"Did your mother not see you fit to raise a child?"

Veronica's breath hitches in her throat. She knows what they're doing and what they're trying to get her to say. The wall she has up from being prepared is nearly indestructible, except for her own emotions.

"No. There were a couple of reasons: she didn't approve of the father at the time, and I was in high school. I planned on an Ivy League college, meaning it would be challenging to raise a child at the same time." 

"And do you still believe it will be challenging?" 

Veronica scoffs. "Raising a child is challenging no matter what. You're responsible for providing a person with everything they need. That isn't a small task."

"Yes, but considering everything you've been through, would you deem yourself capable of raising a child and providing-" 

"Yes." 

She raises a brow and nods, glancing down at something lying on the table before folding her hands in front of her again. "And you recently started attending alcoholics anonymous meetings for your alcohol addiction. What made you decide to do this?"

"I wanted to get better," Veronica says. "I needed to get better. I want Evelyn back, and it was a step I needed to take. I'm in therapy, too," she adds before another question can be asked. 

"You were brought to the hospital due to an overdose. Was this overdose intentional?" 

"No!" She swallows and sucks in a breath. One wrong word and she can forget the possibility of getting anything. "It was an accident." 

"Why do you want to be Evelyn's caretaker? Surely you've considered this before, but you never acted on it in the years she was gone. Why now?" 

Once again, Winter's words run through her mind. 'They're going to try to make you break. If you do break, be strong about it.' 

She takes a moment before answering. "I want her back because I'm her mother! A mother deserves to be with her child, no matter how messed up her past is. I need to move forward, and having her with me is how to do that. I waited because I needed the courage and I needed to figure things out. I wasn't ready." 

"Why do you think you're ready now?" 

"I've gone weeks without drinking, I'm not failing school anymore, I have a support system, and I haven't even considered doing anything that would endanger her." She shifts and looks directly at the woman interrogating her. "She was taken from me before I got to meet her. Talk to her. Hold her. For years I was lied to. I think I've earned this." 

The attorney's lips press together, and she turns on her heel and walks back to the table. "That will be all." 

Once Veronica returns to her seat, she looks over at Evelyn. She doesn't understand how hard they're fighting for her or why. But Veronica hopes one day she will. Jason squeezes her hand when she sits down. 

"I call Marianna Sawyer to the stand." 

She squeezes his hand, not loosening her grip this time. Fresh tears stream down her cheeks, her eyes following Marianna to the stand. As she takes the oath, the words fade to background noise. 

Her eyes fall shut, the fear disappearing and seat falling from under her. It's all black. Peaceful. 

"I thought it would be the best thing for her. She was young and had a future ahead of her. I thought a child would ruin that for her." Her mom's voice shatters the peace. 

"Did you lie and tell her they were hospital discharge forms?" 

"Yes." 

Veronica's expression changes. She can't bring herself to meet her mother's eye, instead staring at the floor and resting her head on her boyfriend's shoulder. How many people are going to be called? What if someone slips up? 

After her mom returns to her seat, the rest of the testimonies goes in one ear and out the other. Her heart pounds against her chest so loud she worries the entire court could hear it.

"Your honor, has a verdict been decided?"

***

"Melissa!" Veronica plasters on a fake smile and approaches the blonde, who rolls her eyes and gives an annoyed sigh. 

"What do you want?" 

"I want to talk to you." The smile vanishes as quickly as it appeared. "Girl to girl, mother to mother." 

Melissa folds her arms. "Talk. You have five minutes." 

"You tried to kill me," Veronica hisses. They stand outside the courtroom, near a small wooden bench and the doors. "I won't let that change anything. I won't bring it up. Hell, I'll take it to my grave." She takes a step closer. "But I know that you don't know when to give up. So I'm going to say this now and I'm going to say it once. 

Don't ever try to hurt my family, my boyfriend, my daughter, or I. Because once I graduate, I will beat your ass in court. Again." She tilts her head and leans in closer. "And don't forget how much I've gotten away with. One more forgery wouldn't be a challenge." She straightens her posture and gives her a confident smile. "Have a nice rest of your day, Melissa."

"You're a sick, crazy bitch." 

Veronica only laughs. "I learned from the best," she says, motioning to the woman in front of her. "We go down a long road to protect our kids. I guess sometimes we're the ones they need protecting from." 

With that, she turns to walk away, making her way to the parking lot and meeting Jason's eye. 

"Ronnie." 

"Yeah?" 

Her eyes fall to the girl next to him, clutching his hand with a sloppy smile. 

"Evie." 

"Hi!" She throws an arm around Veronica's waist and looks up at her. Veronica is sobbing before she can get a word out, kneeling down to Evelyn's level. The photograph did little to capture how beautiful she is, Veronica decides, running her finger down her pink-tinted cheek, causing the young girl to giggle. 

"Hey, baby. Hi." Not knowing what to say, she opens the car door for Evelyn to climb in and then throws her arms around Jason, trying to slow the steady stream of tears running down her face. 

"It's done." For once, it doesn't feel like an ending, but a new beginning. He slips an arm around her waist to pull her closer. 

"Yeah." 

Something changes inside of Veronica. Is this what healing feels like? Everything that broke the day of the crash holds a dull ache, but it's only that- dull. For the first time in a while, she can see a future. 

"Are we still in hell?" She asks, wiping her eyes with her hand and laughing. 

He smiles at her. "I think we made it back, darling."


	35. Epilogue

GRADUATION DAY

"Caroline." Veronica forces her feet forward, kneeling on soft, fresh-smelling earth in front of the graves. She sets a flower down in front of the headstone and grasps for the right words. The first ones out are "I'm sorry.

I hope you know that I regret it. Do I feel guilty about what I did to Heather? Sometimes. I'm sorry, and I don't know if you were pretending to be my friend just to use me or hurt me, but I enjoyed that time nonetheless. If I've learned anything, it would be that even the little moments matter because they're what you'll remember when everything around you is covered in devastation. Maybe it was short-lived, but it happened." 

She scratches the back of her neck and stands, looking over at where a memory plaque is for Heather. 

"I guess I should apologize to you too," she says with an empty laugh. "I'm sorry. I am. I'm graduating today... I'm sorry I took your future away." 

The morning sun glints off of her engagement ring, casting sprinkles of light onto the grass. She plays with her color and then fumbles with the ring. 

"Evie keeps saying she's seeing a woman. She freaked us out the other night; Jason and I had thought someone was trying to rob us or hurt us." Veronica pauses. "She said the woman she keeps seeing has a blue tongue, blonde hair, and is wearing a robe. Are you... talking to her? She says you'll make faces at her and sometimes she'll randomly laugh.

It's okay if you are... she seems to like you. I have a lot to figure out," she sighs. "I'm interning at a law firm and looking for a job, planning my wedding, trying to figure out all of Evelyn's stuff- McNamara came down to help us out. We're moving after today, and so I guess this is goodbye." She looks around with a sad smile. 

"I need to get away from the memories and the pain but... I'll miss it. I'll always wish I appreciated school a bit more, or went to more parties- but I guess I have the rest of my life for stuff like that." 

"Ronnie!" 

"Hold on!" 

She stands and smiles, almost tripping in the heels under her gown. "Bye, Heather." She turns, walks towards the car, and doesn't look back. 

***

"I want waffles," Evelyn giggles, tugging at the sleeve of her dress. Veronica had braided her hair before they left, but now her still partially damp hair hangs in waves around her head, shiny and brushed through. 

"Oh, Evie." Veronica kneels and starts fussing over her again. "Her shoes don't even match! I thought I bought shoes that go with this dress! The-the gold sparkly ones that have the little velcro thing-" 

"Ron, I don't she cares if her shoes match her dress," Jason teases her. She shoots him a glare. 

"Maybe I care. Do you know what that says about me as a mother? That I'm lazy-" 

He cuts her off with a kiss, melting her glare. The fireworks spreading through her body are the same ones that went off when they first kissed- not as adults but as stupid, lovesick, naive teenagers. 

"We're gonna be late," she mutters, his lips still against her neck. Evelyn bounces around impatiently. 

"Have you ever been late? We have half an hour, Miss "let's get up at an ungodly hour despite having tons of time to get ready."

She smacks his arm. "Let's go before I ruin my lipstick." 

***

Veronica pushes her way through the crowd of her old classmates, approaching Winters with a confident smile.

"Hi." 

"Hello, Veronica." She looks her up and down. "Congratulations." 

"Thank you." Veronica doesn't budge, continuing to smile. "Do you think I'll make a good lawyer?" 

"You defiantly have a knack for stubbornness and arguing." 

Her smile widens. If you knew Winters well, you'd know that's the closest thing she gives to compliments. 

"Thanks for helping me, and for believing in me, if you did." 

"I knew you were capable, Sawyer," she says, leaning back and folding her arms in front of her dark blue dress. "Whether or not you were going to pick yourself up off the floor and put in enough effort to reaching your potential... no one knew that but you."

Veronica nods and takes a step back, lifting the edge of her gown to reveal heels she would never wear without a reason. 

"Maybe one day I'll be able to walk in heels as well as you do." 

"Don't get ahead of yourself." 

***

TIME SKIP- FOUR MONTHS LATER- WEDDING DAY

When the song ends, Veronica finds herself in front of her again, this time in a wedding dress. People laugh around her, the space filled with smiles and joy, and the occasional tear. For some reason, she had kept thinking about Heather. 

Maybe some tragedies bring good, as bad as that thought might be. Sure, her death ripped things apart, but if that hadn't have happened, there wouldn't be the opportunity to stitch them back up tighter. 

"I got the job," she announces, licking the frosting off of a cupcake. "It's at a law firm downtown. I'm glad I did; with the three of us and the new house, it's expensive." 

"Welcome to the real world." 

Veronica moves her dress to reveal her shoes, grinning. "I told you one day I'd be able to." 

Winters rolls her eyes, and that's enough for Veronica, who finishes the cupcake and then walks down the hall, avoiding the crowd and giving her guests smiles and waves. She makes sure no one's looking before going up to the roof of the building. 

Staring out at the city below her, the sky a blend of blues and pinks. After a moment she feels a presence behind her. 

"Heather?" 

Mac draws her bottom lip between her teeth. Despite being the same age as Veronica, she'll always be a teenager in Veronica's eyes. 

"Hey. Sorry if I-" 

"No, no, come here. I just needed some fresh air. That many people makes the room stuffy." 

Heather nods and sits down next to her, legs dangling over the side. "Ah. Jason's looking for you. Evelyn's with your mom." 

"They're obsessed with each other," Veronica laughs before turning to her friend. "How are you, Heather?" 

"I'm alright. Funny how I just got divorced and you're getting married." She gives an empty laugh. Veronica throws her a concerned glance. "Everything fell apart after high school, but was it ever whole in the first place?" 

"Maybe not. But one day it will be, and you'll realize that spirals have another direction than down. Everything's either a blessing or a lesson." 

Heather looks at her, her perfect makeup and curls, the evening light flickering across their faces. "You look beautiful. Are you happy?" 

"Yeah." She squeezes her hand. "And believe me, one day, you'll get there." 

Heather sniffles and squeezes back. "Your guests are probably wondering where you are." 

"Let them wonder," Veronica says. "I'll be right here."


End file.
